The private lives of us
by Aussieflower
Summary: She was the skilled dominatrix. He was the emotionless detective. But underneath it all were two childhood friends. After years and years, what if they suddenly met up again, with a cruel Moriarty and an unsuspecting Mycroft and John added to the mix? An AU of Irene and Sherlock's past, but the original screen time from ASiB will stay the same.
1. Prologue

**Hey there guys!**

**So before anyone asks why my other two stories aren't updated, the details are on my author profile. If any one can't be bothered to look there, then I'll just say: My two stories are both on hiatus.**

**Did that achieve a dramatic effect? :P**

**I promise to have them both updated either this week or next week, definitely before Easter. But I'm drowning in school work right now, plus I'm stuck with some bits. You patience will pay off, promise!**

**Anyways, this is something very different. So far I've worked with a Scandal in Blegravia, but I decided to do a bit of an AU. It may not be to in character, but it was a really fun and different idea, and I wanted to toy with these particular characters** **a** **bit**.

**Enjoy** **xxx**

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She sat there, completely naked. Her hair was tied back in an eloborate way, which complimented her face nicely, her eyes were still the same colour blue as Sherlock remembered; bottomless, sparkling with that hint of mischief. Her lips were ruby red this time, and not a natural pink. Her eyes were outlined and her lashes were curled.

She was smiling at him, one eyebrow raised, almost as if she was daring him. He was looking back coldly, wondering what he should do.

Tell John?

No, he and Miss Adler had begun a new game, and the past didn't count. She was the successful and skilled dominatrix and he was the cold and clever detective. A small, yet possibly essential part of them was still preserved, but they had both changed.

Drastically, it would seem, at least in her case.

And so Sherlock stayed cold and emotionless and detached. He told himself it was for the sake of the game. He told himself that he didn't want John caught up in the middle of this.

But the things he told himself weren't quite true. They contributed to his number of reasons to act cold, certainly, but there was something else, something different and much, much bigger.

By acting cold, he could pretend like he didn't remember the past, as if it had all slipped away. Years and years of memories and recollections, intense feelings and amusing encounters.

They meant nothing now, and that's what Sherlock told himself.

But it was _hard_.

Looking at her there, naked, smiling suggestively, only triggered memories he didn't want to relive.

He closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind, needing desperately to focus.

All that existed right now was this room in Belgravia, with the naked dominatrix, the unknowing and unsuspecting army doctor, and the case that needed to be solved.

Nothing else.

He looked at her again, and saw that she was now happily chatting with John. He smirked inwardly.

John wasn't allowed to know. Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler were strangers, two simple individuals whose paths in life had crossed in Sherlock's quest to solve a case.

To John, she would remain Irene Adler. And right now, she would remain Irene Adler to Sherlock as well.

But he'd seen her before, of course he had. Irene Adler, then known as Irene Adele Aikins, his classmate in primary school, friend in Grammar school and the first and only girl he had ever had feelings for.

And now also a professional and skilled dominatrix, in whose possession was some revealing photographs of a member of the British monarchy.

He needed to focus.

The Irene he had known no longer existed. In her place was a determined and dangerous woman, not afraid of anything. A woman who showed no weakness or vulnerability, a woman whose eyes were like ice, cold and blue, hard and still. The expression in them would not shatter and crack to reveal the warmth and honesty within, and Sherlock shouldn't expect them to.

After all, he was now the emotionless detective, his eyes just as blue and cold as hers.

The encounters and memories of the past stayed in the past, buried there, and never mentioned.

Sherlock an Irene might just be able to fool themselves into thinking they were forgotten.

How stupid of them.

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**Like it? Love it? Hate it?**

**Please tell me what you think! I do want to continue this (though I just realised that it might work as a one-shot…)**

**Tell me if you want more chapters. I already have a basic outline of the first half, and I really look forward to writing a younger Sherlock and Irene; the dynamic between them is so interesting.**

**Please tell me what you think! Thanks xxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again! **

**I've released that I've really been neglecting this story, and foolishly decided to begin writing it now, when I still have to other major stories to finish. But yeah, I thought it was time to prove that I haven't abandoned this fic. **

**Anyway, I worked out my own timeline and decided that both Sherlock and Irene are 31 years old in 2012. I know there is an age difference in the original (if we are going out from the actors' ages), but I tweaked it a bit for the story to work. Anyways, this means that both Irene and Sherlock are ten years old in this chapter.**

**Oh, and I should just say that writing these two as kids is HARD, okay! REALLY hard. To be honest, I read it, and I can't see that much of a difference, so I am really sorry. Once again, I'm starting a story which I have no idea about (much like 'At their weakest') so feedback will always be appreciated, and the beginning (or any stages) might get rather OOC at times.**

**Apologies, I promise to try my best, and enjoy xx**

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**September 1991**

Sherlock decided that he hated school.

School taught him facts, most of which were completely useless. As a young child he had been eager to go to school, foolishly having thought that it would be full of students with his intellect and that the teachers would actually be clever. But now, as he sat at his desk, staring at his history teacher, he had to admit that school had gravely disappointed him.

He was in year 4 and it was the first week of term. Others around him complained about already having lessons, and all thought it weird that Sherlock had seemed almost eager to get on with studying. They all viewed him as the strange one.

Sherlock leaned back in his chair and frowned. Currently, his history teacher was explaining about cave men, accentuating their primitive ways. Sherlock thought it was utterly useless.

Humans might have developed new technology (which Sherlock actually found fairly useful, he had to admit) but their habits did not differ much from the cave men. In Sherlock's opinion, most humans were still as stupid.

He was so bored. His mind was processing everything the teacher was saying and then deleting it. He knew he would have a problem if the teacher asked him to repeat all the main facts, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

The only subjects Sherlock really felt were any use were mathematics, and science. Chemistry, biology and even physics fascinated him, because it was something he could actually use in later life. Unfortunately, he was still far too young to have science, and maths was currently too easy.

He needed some sort of distraction or excitement, needed data and facts that would help him, that explained the ways of the world to him. It seemed as if they would never come however and Sherlock busied himself with observing his teacher, one of the few things he could do at school to stop him crying from boredom.

His teacher was old, strict and pompous; certainly not one students liked to cross. He could inflict harsh punishment if he decided the situation called for it, which was more often than not. Sherlock did not see eye to eye with him (as with most other teachers), but the other kids didn't either.

Sherlock knew he lived alone, although he had said he was married. He still wore a ring, and when Sherlock had discussed the issue with Mycroft (whom he admired slightly for his intellect, although he would probably never admit this fact to him), his brother had firmly stated that Mr Barker's wife had certainly not died, but left him, citing the history teacher's shoelaces to be the reason. It had taken Sherlock a few minutes to see the connection, while Mycroft simply sighed and held his head up in the air, but as soon as Sherlock realised, his brother's words made perfect sense.

Other than that, Mr Barker had no children (easily explained by the way that he really had no idea how to act around any of his young students) and all his time was spent studying or at the local pub. Sherlock had tried telling other students this, but they had laughed and dismissed it. Some of them had been wide eyed at the beginning, but had soon lost interest.

Sherlock wished people would listen to him. As young as he was, he was _clever_, cleverer than most adults, and surely that should count above physical age? Mycroft had smiled sourly when Sherlock had presented his theory with a stubborn frown on his face, and had simply shaken his head.

"The world is ruled by adults Sherlock" he had told his little brother. "Adults like to think they have power, they hate the idea that a child could be cleverer than them. To make others listen to you, you have to manipulate them into listening to you."

Sherlock looked intrigued and sat down on the floor, looking at Mycroft. Mycroft frowned at his brother's position and sat down in his chair instead, one knee over the other, with his back straight. He was nearly twenty three years old, and the one of the few constant older figures in Sherlock's life. There were nannies, and his parents, who the Holmes brothers barely ever got to see, but Mycroft was almost a father figure. He could be annoying, and snobby and a know it all, but he was also fiercely clever and the only one Sherlock could really interact with. He was finishing a prolonged course in political science at university, and Sherlock somehow viewed this very important, at least in his young age.

"And how do you do that?" he asked determinedly, and Mycroft let the tiniest smile slip.

"You bide your time" he had said simply. "You let them think that they are important through your own actions, to the point when they will actually want to know your advice. You shouldn't scream your opinions out at them Sherlock" he said with raised eyebrows and Sherlock blushed briefly, "Instead you say small things so that after a while they notice you and rely on you. Of course, everybody is different, but it generally depends on _your_ character."

With that he had smirked slightly and left the room, and Sherlock decided he was probably not taking the issue seriously. He sighed to himself, still sitting on the hard, wooden floor, and wondered if he could do what Mycroft had described.

He was clever, but he lacked one thing that Mycroft had, which was exactly what made him even smarter than Sherlock was – he didn't really understand people. He had heard mummy discussing it with one of the nannies, and had gathered from that conversation that he behaved in a different way to others. He didn't know how exactly, but he couldn't really say he cared, and he preferred acting the way he did, if being normal meant being stupid like his everyone else he knew. But there were times, and this was one of them, when he truly wished for a person his age who could understand him.

He looked around the large living room he was sitting in, all polished wood and stone statues and old carpets, and felt rather lonely.

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School continued to be boring and strict until the normal routine was suddenly upset by an appearance of new student.

The student appeared mid-morning, being led around by the school secretary and by an elderly woman who was obviously not the girl's mother, nor her relation. Sherlock guessed it was most likely a nanny; he could recognise them rather easily, simply by their air and manner.

The girl herself was tall but petite, in a flowery dress, black school shoes with a small heel and long, wavy dark brown hair, all twisted and curled elaborately around her head. It looked more like she was getting ready for some sort of crazy photo shoot with that hair do, or perhaps about to meet the queen.

She did not look comfortable in her clothes, but wore the dress with a look on her face that said that she had long gotten used to wearing similar garments. Sherlock recognized that look – it was the expression he wore whenever he was forced into his ridiculous clothes by mummy. He supposed that the woman came from a rich family – like his – from the way she was dressed and from the nanny accompanying her.

Sherlock could guess that she had no brothers or sisters, and if she did, well then they were either much older or much younger than she was. She had no bruises on her arm to suggest any physical confrontation, the way she was done up was simply to perfect, not a hair out of place. She wasn't timid, but she looked at the class with less confidence than a person with other children in her life would. Sherlock realised that her background could easily be very, very similar to his, and his heart leapt for a second, before he frowned.

It was just a little girl, nothing new, exciting or special. She might come from his background, but that did not mean she was as clever as him. She was probably another one of those silly, squealing little girls obsessed with ribbons and ponies and lollipops.

She stood in front of the class, having been pulled there by the secretary, while the rest of the students gaped at her. Some boys smirked at each other, some girls smiled timidly, but no one in the small year four class made eye contact.

Well, no one except Sherlock.

Sherlock had just realised that although he didn't care about her, he had just passes a few minutes of history class in which he didn't feel bored in. It was only a very short space of time, and yet it seemed to make a huge difference. Deducing things about the girl had been fun and productive, and he was sure he already knew more about her than anyone else in the room. This was nothing new, but it still made him smirk.

He looked at her, not scared that it was considered impolite. He watched her eye move over the students, almost as if she were assaying them…but why? What for?

The students blushed and looked away when her gaze met their slightly averted ones, others began giggling and whispering quietly, hoping the fact that a new student was here was reason enough for Mr Barker not to punish them for such behaviour.

She looked straight at Sherlock, not blinking or smiling, and Sherlock stared straight back, rather surprised. From the pink flowery dress he had expected a person who was rather shy and hesitant, but he saw a determined gleam in her eye. He felt her eyes run over him, taking him in, and unconsciously sat up slightly straighter and blushed.

He saw a sudden gleam of amusement in her eyes and it surprised him. He couldn't possibly fathom why she would feel amusement in this situation. A sudden thought sprang up. Was she laughing at him? Her lips had twitched into a very slight smile, but only when looking at him.

His eyebrows rose slightly, trying to figure her out, before he looked at her coldly, hoping it would make her stop smiling. Usually this cold gaze made people leave him alone (everybody in the Holmes family had mastered this particular intimidating and cold stare – especially the two Holmes brothers), but it didn't seem to have any effect on her. She simply stared back, one eyebrow raised as if she were daring him, before the teacher spoke and everybody jerked to attention.

"This is our new student" Mr Barker said in his deep voice, and almost everybody jumped slightly. Sherlock leaned back in his seat, sighing, and brushing back his black curls from his face. He noticed that the girl's gaze was still trained on him, and that amusement was still present in her features, but fading. He smirked lightly to himself. It had been fun while it lasted.

"Miss Irene Aikins has just come here from the United States of America" he continued, not even really bothering to look at her. Instead, he focused on his own students.

"You may sit there" he said, pointing to a desk across the room from Sherlock's. Sherlock kept his eyes focused on the board as she passed and moved through the classroom, unfazed by the stares of her classmates.

She sat alone, just like Sherlock, and quietly took out her things. Mr Barker looked around and suddenly noticed where he had put her – on the only other empty bench in the room.

"You may sit next to Mr Holmes if you wish" he suddenly, nodding in Sherlock's direction. "And possibly aide him with his history lessons; he seems to be falling behind."

Sherlock felt his cheeks grow hot at the criticism and glared at his teacher, who clearly didn't understand that Sherlock was much cleverer than him and didn't need to learn any history. Mr Barker ignored him while several in the class tutted and giggled slightly. Irene turned to look towards Sherlock, and seeing his expression, the same flash of mirth once again crossed her face.

"I believe Mr Holmes would like to work by himself sir" she said carefully and respectfully, with a tentative smile at her teacher. Several of her classmates' eyes widened. It seemed as if Irene had misunderstood that Mr Barker had meant what he had said as an order instead of a request.

Instead of growing angry however, Mr barker looked at Irene for a second, taking in the way she had stood up when speaking to him, her tone and choice of words, and her respectful smile.

"Very well" he said, dismissing the issue and turning back to the board, once again starting a tedious lecture about the cavemen.

Sherlock's eyes widened slightly, as he watched Irene sit down. He had never seen his history teacher just…submit like that. Irene's faint smile had disappeared, and the determined but now also mischievous gleam in her eyes had returned. He frowned at her, suddenly mesmerized, wondering what her expression meant.

He turned away when he saw her looking towards him. He hoped she didn't expect him to thank her for not sitting next to him. Because he wouldn't. He didn't feel offended that she hadn't come to sit next to him either – of course he wasn't, why would he be? He didn't care about her, and he didn't want someone trying to explain history to him either.

He shook his head, and decided to stare at the black board and pretend he was listening.

He fell back into boredom, but he didn't bother to look at Irene for the whole lesson.

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**Yeah…so, um…well. (I'm sick okay! ****That was the reason it was...the way it was. I'm sick.)**

**Basically, you can tell I am really worried. I know where I want this story to go already (I wrote a whole outline when I first got the idea), but I have a feeling it's going to be a rough ride. A Scandal in Belgravia is going to insanely huge fun to write though, I've already started writing out possible quotes and thinking of what the two characters will be feeling.**

**Anyways, PLEASE review, it would really mean a lot to me, especially with this story. Thank you!**

**Laura xxx **


	3. Chapter 3

**So, the next chapter of this story is here. I just have to say that writing these two as kids is hard, and I'm sorry if I don't do them justice. I feel like my characterisation is really off, so I'll let you decide. I you also think that the way the two of them act is strange please tell me, and I'll work on it.**

**Thanks!**

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Sherlock ended up ignoring Irene not just for that lesson, but for the whole school day, as well as for all the ones that followed. She interested him, certainly, simply because of her behavior on her first day. He still couldn't really figure out what she had meant with that look in her eyes while she had surveyed the class and again when she had looked at him after Mr. Baker had insulted him in front of the class.

He had managed to deduce some things about her when he had first seen her, and at the time he had considered it an achievement, but slowly he realised that that those were the _only_ things he could figure out about her. It was something, but it wasn't satisfying, and it kept him on edge.

Another thing that interested him about her was the same thing that has interested him on her first day. He didn't know just how clever she was, but her background was so similar to his. She came from a rich family, and while she had plenty of money, she didn't get what she truly wanted – affection and recognition from her parents. Deep down, Sherlock understood. His parents were rarely around either, and Sherlock knew that he at least had Mycroft, if only during the times he wasn't at university or at one of his extra political science courses. Irene, clearly, had no one except her nannies.

Irene stayed unpopular during the whole school year and sat alone at her desk for the whole term.

She didn't make friends well, Sherlock realised. While she seemed to be fairly sociable, she always acted slightly awkwardly and reluctantly around her classmates, simply because she didn't have any siblings. Her clothes and actions also separated her from them. Although it was a private school, the way her nannies dressed her was just too over the top. Sherlock had never seen her wear any pants; instead she always appeared in dresses of various lengths and colours. She behaved herself well, at least in front of the teachers, and Sherlock guessed from the way she acted that she had never really had proper friends she could just be herself with, instead of the perfect doll she had all but been trained to be.

Her accent was another distanced her from others. While her mother was English and her father American (Sherlock had to bitterly admit that he had not figured this out himself, but had overheard the teachers talking – but that wasn't cheating, that was _listening_), she had grown in America, and her accent was quite prominent.

What Sherlock found strange was that although he could see that Irene wanted some friends, she also didn't seem to mind being alone. When the teachers gave her the option of working in a group with a few others or by herself, she sweetly asked if she could do her work alone, and she was the first finished (Sherlock could have finished before her, easily, of course, but he decided that the worksheet was absolutely useless and that he couldn't be bothered.)

There were times during class that he thought Irene was looking at him, and this always made him sit up a little straighter. Whenever he turned around to look at her on the other side of the class, he would find her looking at the black board, concentrating, but with the same sparkling look in her eyes as she had had during their first meeting.

What he didn't know that while Irene intrigued him, the same went for her. Sherlock interested her, with his brooding blue eyes and dark curls. He was an outsider in the class, she could tell. He barely spoke, and sat quietly during lessons, completely ignoring those around him. There was something that baffled her about him, the way he stared at everyone and the calculating look in his eyes. Her was so young and could be so childlike at times, and yet the way he behaved occasionally was so distanced. Irene wondered if she behaved like this as well.

One day, during recess Irene passed a group of girls in her class talking animatedly. She stopped for a second, wondering whether she should just keep walking, or stay and attempt to talk to them. She wasn't quite sure how to approach them, but she had been at school for a few days and still knew no one and was starting to feel lonely at times.

One of the taller girls, Alice turned around and saw her watching. She looked at Irene carefully for a second, before she smiled and whispered something to the other girls. The girl next to her waved her over. Irene walked over as confidently as she could, with a small smile on her face, but suddenly paused, wondering what she should do now.

"Hi" she said tentatively, and Alice smiled at her. Irene noted that it didn't quite reach her eyes, but at least it was something.

"Hello" she replied. The other girls mumbled hellos as well, before they all lapsed into silence, staring at the ground, clearly waiting for someone else to make the first move.

"That's a pretty dress you're wearing", a petite girl called Cecily finally said, and Irene gave her a genuine smile, grateful.

"Thank you" she said, and suddenly felt self-conscious when she noted just how different her voice sounded in comparisons to Cecily's. The other girls clearly also noticed but said nothing.

"I don't like it much" she added when the other girls didn't react. "But my mummy wants me to wear them."

Alice nodded. "It's nice" she said, not even really attempting to make her voice sound sincere.

"I like what you're wearing" Irene offered, and Alice suddenly seemed to brighten, and introduced her to the rest of her little group, although Irene already knew all their names.

Unfortunately, they all seemed to run out of things to say. Irene wondered why she had even approached the group, seeing that neither she nor any of them seemed eager to have any sort of conversation, when Sherlock walked past and provided the much needed distraction.

"Didn't Mr Barker ask you to sit next to him on your first day?" Cecily asked, and Irene nodded, her eyes still following Sherlock as he walked across the playground determinedly.

"What's he up to?" Alice asked, frowning as Sherlock walked around the corner, heading towards the gate. "He's not skipping is he?"

"Don't be silly!" A tall and lanky red head in the group (whom Alice had introduced as Jasmine) said. "His parents would be furious with him!"

"Yeah, like he cares" Alice scoffed, and looked back at Irene, who suddenly looked very interested.

"I'm glad you stayed at your desk" she told Irene in a snotty voice.

"Why?"

Cecily laughed. "He's weird. He pays no attention in class, and he makes stuff about people to get attention."

"He doesn't seem to care about anything" Jasmine added. "He's rude to the teachers, doesn't do his homework sometimes and acts like a really big know-it -all. He comes from this really rich family and has an older brother, but I've never seen him."

"Does he have any friends?" Irene asked, suspecting the answer already, but wanting to hear if she was right or not. Alice shook her head.

"No. He's been here since year one, and he said that he wanted to be alone. I tried talking to him once" she said and straightened up, her nose in the air "and he just ignored me. I mean, at least I tried, unlike others. But he just stared at me and walked away."

"He seems nice though" Irene mused, and realised too late that this was the wrong thing to say. Alice stared at her.

"I mean" Irene said, attempting to cover up her mistake "he doesn't act mean or anything. He just…ignores people. Maybe he just isn't much of a talker."

Jasmine just shrugged.

The bell rang then, and the group of girls made their way back to class together. Jasmine, Alice and Cecily talked to each other, but Irene said nothing, lost in thought. No one in the class really seemed to like Sherlock much, and didn't care about him, but she felt almost sorry for him. They hadn't spoken, and maybe the things the other girls had said were true, but Irene couldn't help but draw parallels between her and him. Both of them came from rich families, and both of them seemed to feel awkward around others. The only difference between them right now, it seemed, was that although Irene preferred to work alone, she did want to make friends, but Sherlock seemed completely content to be alone all the time.

She watched him in class, but always turned away when she felt that he was about to turn around. He interested her, because he was a complete mystery to her. She wished she knew more about him.

Unbeknownst to her, he fascinated her just as much as she fascinated him.

And yet, for that first year, they never spoke a single sentence to each other.

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**I love hearing from readers, so please do review!**

**Laura xxx**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm very sorry for the time it took to update this! Please forgive me. I'm on holiday in the UK right now, with slightly limited wi - fi. **

**Oh, also I apologise if my British school system thing is a bit off. I go to a different school and am not really familiar with the British secondary school.**

**Enjoy!**

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Two years later, things changed.

Although liked, Irene had stayed fairly friendless during primary school. Sherlock saw that she had a small group of girls she tended to play or talk with, and they seemed to like her as well. Sherlock personally thought they were all rather stupid; _dull_. The leader of the clique, Alice, was proud and snobby, but easily the most popular girl in the class. She had spoken to Sherlock once, when he had first come to the school, but Sherlock had thought little of her then and his bad opinion of her had only increased over the school years.

Irene, he noticed, seemed quite smart. Her school grades were always perfect, but he didn't judge her with this. After all, his school grades weren't always good, and yet he was clever. However, Irene's conversation somehow made her different from the other girls – instead of talking and squealing about every single thing, her words seemed more precise, but not carefully thought out.

There was no denying however that she could charm people.

Easily, Sherlock thought with some bitterness. Being able to manipulate people well was a skill he still lacked, but one he knew Mycroft was brilliant at. He looked up to his older brother, and it bothered him that Mycroft seemed so proficient at… everything. He understood people a lot better than Sherlock did, and Sherlock supposed that this was where the gift of charming people came from.

Irene had certainly perfected it, to the point where it seemed like it was part of her personality. Respectful tones, small but polite smiles and a respectful and modest attitude quickly made the teachers putty in hands. She quickly became their favourite pupil, something which did not always go down well with her little clique. Until now, Alice and Jasmine had always been then best in class, but not even they had managed to achieve being favoured by all the teachers.

Irene certainly noticed the growing tension in her friend clique as well, and wasn't quite sure what to do. She wanted friends, because she did feel lonely, but she rather disliked Alice. She was stuck up and cold, but with the pretence of being nice. Irene quickly learned not to underestimate her – she had the power to turn all her new friends against her with a few words.

Jasmine was nicer than Alice, but it was clear that she and Alice were excellent friends, and that Jasmine, although kinder, would always stick with Alice, no matter what she did.

That left Cecily, who, although a little dull and silly was nicer than the other two, once her hostility had been cracked. Irene liked her most of all, especially since the other two still treated her coldly at times, liking her, but not completely accepting her as part of their group, while Cecily was more open and friendly. She was still not the best friend Irene yearned for, but she was the only girl who seemed to accept her.

During primary school, Irene stayed an outsider in the class, even with her friends. She preferred to work alone, and slowly other class mates lost interest in her. She was silent, hardworking, and occasionally a little shy.

At the beginning, some people started drawing parallels between her and Sherlock, but they discovered that Irene was a lot more sociable and less cold.

Sherlock, for his own part, stayed interested in her, something that surprised him greatly. He understood why she had caught his attention during her first few weeks at the school, but for his interest in her to go on for two years was something even he couldn't completely explain to himself. Part of it he understood – she was different, somehow, alienated from her classmates no matter how hard she tried to fit in, but, like him, often seemed to prefer it that way.

She didn't fit in well with her friends either – while she sat with them every lunch time, Sherlock could often glimpse her bored or irritated expression when she listened to the talk about mundane things. Somehow, this greatly amused Sherlock, to the point where he purposely sat near her.

Irene noticed, and smiled privately to herself. In the two years, Sherlock had only fascinated her more and more. She had learnt that he was very clever, which pleased her. She couldn't judge herself objectively, but she knew that she was smarter than her friends, and Sherlock seemed to be the only person in the class who didn't bore her.

Alice also noticed that Sherlock's interest seemed to focus on Irene, which irritated her. She had tried to be friends with Sherlock when they had been young, only to be insulted and then ignored. Irene had never even spoken to Sherlock, but already he seemed to like her.

"Sherlock is staring at you" she told Irene when this happened for the first time, and Irene looked surprised, before turning around to look at Sherlock, who met her gaze briefly, before raising one eyebrow and turning away.

"Why would he be staring at _you_?" Jasmine asked, rather rudely and Irene shrugged. Up till now, she was only interested in him; she had no idea that the feeling was mutual.

"I don't know" she said shrugging and seeing Alice's expression quickly added, "Maybe he was looking at you instead? It makes no sense for him to look at me."

Alice nodded, but she wasn't fooled by what Irene had said. But instead of showing her annoyance, she pasted a smile on her face and nodded, going along with Irene's game.

"Maybe. Who cares what he thinks anyway?"

Irene smiled back at Alice, knowing that she had managed to incite the girl's jealousy.

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Irene had got used to being the outsider in her class so much that she didn't notice her escalating popularity until it was blatantly obvious. Staying friends with Alice slowly boosted her status in the class, even though anyone who bothered to look properly could see that Alice considered Irene competition.

But suddenly puberty hit, and the horrible and awkward stage began for everyone. For most people puberty started while they were on holidays, but when all the students returned to secondary school none felt very comfortable in their own skin.

Well, no one except Irene. She had flourished over the summer holidays and when she returned to secondary school, she was confident and suddenly a lot more attractive than before. Girls from her old school immediately accepted her in their clique and turned to her. Even boys, who had previously either ignored her or laughed at her accent started to take interest in her and Irene was always surrounded by people.

She made new friends, a whole group of them, and once again belonged to the most popular group in the grade. Most of the girls from her old school (including Cecily and Alice) now saw her as the group leader, instead of the other way around. Alice's jealousy stayed, but there was nothing she could do and so she opted for staying with Irene, considering that Jasmine had gone to a different school.

Sherlock quickly noticed the change in Irene when he saw her. She was taller, leaner and a lot more confident than she had been. Her hair was shorter and she was dressed a lot more casually. He realised that she was probably standing up to her parents now and looked down at his own clothes, which still resembled those he had worn in primary school.

The one thing that hadn't changed was that he still could completely figure her out. He knew she had been somewhere warm on holiday, because her skin was tanned, but other than that he had no idea of how she had spent the last couple of months. He shook his head in anger and walked away. She had fascinated him for so long now, and he still hadn't come to any sort of proper conclusion. He decided that she really wasn't worth the effort.

He had neglected to tell Mycroft about her, even though there were times when he had wanted to see if Mycroft could figure out anything Sherlock had missed. But he knew that if he did so, Mycroft would first lecture him on fascination leading to affection and then probably look carefully into her and her family background. Mycroft had obtained a small but important position in the government and Sherlock knew that with his methods of persuasion, his brother could probably access files on somebody if he wished to.

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Irene was grateful when she compared her timetable with all her new friends and saw that she could at least be alone in biology lessons. She liked her new popularity, although it hadn't made her relationship with Alice any easier. Alice was nicer to her now that she was clearly more liked than any other person in the entire year, but Irene could see that this was all an act. But with no Jasmine at her side, there was nothing Alice could do.

However, though it was nice to have friends; Irene wished that some of them could be a little smarter. They all seemed intent on discussing boys and fashion non-stop, and there were times when their conversation made Irene want to bang her head against a wall. She longed for someone who could actually interest her and knew that such a person existed.

Sherlock Holmes.

She had been both thrilled and angry when she had found out that they were going to the same secondary school. She had wished to know Sherlock better ever since the first day she had seen him, but she had never had a proper conversation with him. There were times when he had accidentally pushed her, and he had only mumbled a hurried apology before running off. (Although, given the look of anger and surprise on Alice's face, she guessed that Sherlock didn't generally apologise). Other times she had asked him for a spare pencil or to borrow his ruler, but he either ignored her completely or handed it to her with an uninterested look. All in all, in the two years she had known him, she hadn't got to know _anything_ about him.

She had caught him staring at her sometimes, which only annoyed her further. If he wanted to talk to her, he could just do it. She didn't bite.

He had annoyed her in the two years she had known him, but she was happy that she could at least see him occasionally. He had gone up a grade in several subjects, so she doubted they had many classes together. She didn't actually want to be in class with him, but she wanted to see him around occasionally.

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Irene had advanced biology with one of the new teachers in her first week. She liked biology, although she adored languages and literature as well, and was looking forward to her advanced class. School bored her occasionally, and she was hoping that this particular subject would prove to be a little more interesting. Although her friends didn't see why she was looking forward to it so much, as it was far too much work, Irene didn't care.

Of course she should have known that it wouldn't all go smoothly, when she arrived late for the lesson and nervously pushed open the door, scanning the room (which was already full) for an empty spot.

There was only one.

And it was right next to Sherlock Holmes.

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**Thank you for reading and please review.**

**Laura xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello again! Apologies for the slight delay in updating this particular story. But now we move on to the fun stuff, which looks very fun to write (and, I hope, also to read). :DD**

**When I discussed the plot with my brother, he mentioned that the whole biology think bore a lot of resemblance to the scene in Twilight. Unfortunately, he mentioned this when I was only halfway through, so obviously when I was finishing, it was ALL I could think about. If any of you also see a resemblance, then I'm sorry.**

**Enjoy! xx**

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Irene wondered how she could not have made the connection. Sherlock was brilliant at science; she should have anticipated this. Overcome by the sudden and partially unprecedented surge of surprise, glee and frustration, she took a deep breath to compose herself and hitched her bag across one shoulder, doing her best to walk over to the empty spot as nonchalantly as possible. She could feel all eyes trained on her, but kept her eyes focused on the empty chair.

Sherlock didn't even notice her until she was right next to him, but the loud scraping sound the chair made as Irene hastily sat down seemed to rouse him out of his state of obliviousness. He looked bored – as always – but the look turned to one of utter and complete surprise when he found out who was sitting next to him.

Irene's first decision was to ignore him, as he had ignored her for two years, but she found out she couldn't. Instead she merely nodded at him, not knowing whether to smile at his shock or frown at the situation she found herself in. In the end though, she couldn't resist to raise one sardonic eyebrow as he continued staring at her, garnering some satisfaction when he finally looked away scanning the room, no doubt looking for any other empty seats.

Finding none, he turned back to the front just as the teacher walked in, a newly determined look on his face.

He was…taken by surprise that Irene was sitting next to him. After having decided on the first day of secondary school that she wasn't worth the effort, he had decided to banish all thoughts of her from his mind. She was smart, but what else distinguished her from all the other girls she spent her time with? He had better things to do in secondary school that spend time concentrating on her.

He had seen the way other boys had started to fawn over her, laughing at her jokes, saving her seats next to them, and winking at each other in approval when they thought she couldn't see. Sherlock was both amused and angry at their behaviour: On one side he saw they were behaving typically for their age, considering her looks to be her best aspect, and not caring at all about her intellect. But he also felt angry when he saw she actually responded. Favourably, at that. Maybe because he had spent two years so very focused on her and hadn't seen any other boy interested in her. Nor had he seen her ever want to be at the centre of attention.

He didn't feel jealous, of course not; he had never even thought of her that way. He was sure enough to know that possessiveness and emotion didn't play a factor in the way he felt when he watched her interact with all her male classmates. But he had never really been fascinated by anyone, nor had he developed any sort of favourable opinion of anybody in primary school, so he felt almost as if he had some sort of bond with her, however small it was.

But this thought was so extremely irrational that he had come to the conclusion that he should just cease all thought of her. He had planned to spend the time in secondary school ignoring her and all of her new "friends", but now that she was sitting next to him, it was utterly impossible. Immediately he had to fight to look away from her, from once again trying to figure out small aspects of her life and personality.

Well, that was his lesson ruined. So much for being able to concentrate and focus on actually learning something when he practically had to fight to keep his gaze on the teacher instead of glancing at her.

With some difficulty, he managed to take some notice of what his teacher, Miss Jennings, was saying, as she explained the fundamental points concerning the immune system. Irene was staring at her pointedly, her textbook open beside her, frowning in concentration.

She turned around to look at him once, and their eyes met, her sea blue eyes boring into his grey ones. Their gaze only lasted for a second; both looked down immediately and assumed an indifferent and unaffected air afterwards. But Irene could clearly see the same surprise and hint of anger she felt mirrored in his eyes.

After the lesson Irene couldn't wait to get out of the room and actually decide how to approach the rest of the classes she would have to spend sitting next to him. She didn't think she could just keep ignoring him – he interested her too much for her to just stay silent. But what other option was there? Sherlock was certainly not the most loquacious of people. She knew the feeling of interest was mutual, but after two years no words of any consequence had been spoken.

Would he actually want to talk to her, she wondered with something akin to anticipation. She felt suddenly excited by the prospect of them getting along. She couldn't really determine what exactly her feelings towards Sherlock were (they were always alternating between slightly hostile and curious) and maybe getting to know him better would finally clear up the matter for her.

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Three days later Irene walked the halls, wondering what approach to take. She didn't know when Sherlock arrived for his lessons, but on this day she was determined to be the early one. She wanted to see his reaction to her, but more importantly, she wanted to attempt some sort of contact. If he wouldn't want to speak to her then fine, but she wanted to at least say she had tried.

It had been difficult getting away from her friends during lunch, especially since she didn't tell them why she had to leave five minutes early. One of her newer friends, Jessie, had simply looked at her curiously but had smiled, asking no questions, which was more than could be said for most of the boys. One of them (a fairly handsome yet slightly arrogant one called James) had even offered to take her to class, which Irene had refused as politely as possible. James was nice, but she needed to be alone. As much as she liked being part of such a large group, she was a loner at heart, and she needed her own space.

She sat down at her desk and took out her textbook, occasionally glancing at it to try and revise what she had written down in the last lesson. She made sure to keep an eye on the door however, taking in as her classmates walked in. They were all a year older then her, and she hadn't taken any notice of them during the last lesson, but now she took time to inspect them, although she was waiting for the familiar mop of dark curls.

Sherlock came in narrowly before the bell this time, and even though he might have just been busy, Irene wondered whether or not he wanted to spend as little time around her as possible. But she immediately dismissed the thought – she was being utterly ridiculous. She didn't even know Sherlock properly and there was nothing that could make either of them actually detest each other. Was there?

She shook her head as Sherlock walked over to her and smiled at him slightly. He raised his eyebrows and nodded, taking in the fact that she was here early. He wondered why.

Frustrated by his behaviour (he could at least have smiled back) she sighed and turned to him, deciding to be bold.

"Look" she said curtly, looking him in the eyes and suddenly fascinated by the fact that they were no longer grey but a muted blue. He frowned at her in question and she dropped her gaze for a second. "If you don't want me sitting next to you Sherlock, then say so. But you don't have to be so sullen whenever I come near you."

He looked surprised by what she had said. Had he been so hostile that she had thought he was furious that she was sitting next to him? He supposed, in retrospect, that his so pointedly ignoring her might have been seen as resentment. But then, what was he supposed to do, when she distracted him just by sitting there.

"I'll try" was all he said as he sat down. He was genuinely shocked when he saw a flash of hurt cross Irene's face at his, well…_sullen_ reply and suddenly felt bad. But he decided that if he spoke again, he might do more good than bad, and stayed silent.

Irene sighed to herself. What was wrong with him anyway? Couldn't he try to formulate at least one normal reply?

But he could have it his way. Irene supposed she had been silly to try and somehow talk to him. If he had wanted to speak to her he would have done it in the time they had been together in one class in primary, when they saw each other all day, every day. She didn't know why she felt so hurt by his short answer. But somehow, it felt like rejection to her. Rejection of her attempt at friendship.

She ignored him determinedly for the rest of the class, until the end, when the teacher decided to test them on what they had written down in the last lesson. Irene bit her lip, hoping she wouldn't be picked. Generally she tended to study, but she had forgotten to this time and the time she could have used at the beginning of the lesson had been spent mostly to await Sherlock.

It was obvious of course that Miss Jennings would ask her the first question.

"Irene, tell me, which form of immune defence provides an immediate, yet non-specific response to any forms of pathogens, or germs, as they are more commonly known?"

Irene bit her lip. She understood the question, but she had forgotten the specific name. She didn't want to make a bad impression, but all she could do was stare blankly.

"The innate immune system." a soft voice whispered beside her and it took Irene a moment to place it as Sherlock's. Her first impulse was to turn around and stare at him, but instead she glanced at her teacher and repeated what Sherlock had told her. Miss Jennings smiled in satisfaction, and nodded, moving on to test the next student, Sherlock having been discreet enough for her not to notice him.

As soon as Irene was sure that Miss Jennings' gaze was no longer fixed on her, she turned around to face Sherlock. "Thanks." she said with a small smile. He nodded his head in return, a small and tentative smile also forming on his lips.

"Mr Barker got it the wrong way round," Irene thought to herself with a smile, recalling her year four history teacher's words.

"_You may sit next to Mr Holmes if you wish. And possibly aide him with his history lessons; he seems to be falling behind."_

She smiled, a feeling of contentment coming over her. It was a small step, but it was definitely an improvement.

Maybe they would never be friends, she supposed. But right now, after being fascinated by Sherlock, and he being fascinated with her for two years, she was certainly ready to try.

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**Thanks for reading.**

**I have a feeling that I'm being very repetitive with Sherlock's and Irene's thoughts about each other. Is that just me? If you feel that way too, then please tell me, either in a PM or in a review.**

**As ever, if you have any other opinions, I would love to hear them. :)**

**Laura x**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi!**

**I've read through the previous chapters of this story and realised that this story seems to consist of about 70% thought and reflection and only 30% (or even less) dialogue. Hopefully that should improve in this chapter though :)**

**Oh, and this chapter is a lot shorter than the last few. "Apologies".(Mycroft quote, hahahaha!)**

**Ooh, and before I forget, a huuuuuuuuuge thanks to **_**Stardust**_** for ****all her comments, encouragment and help with this story. **

**Also a big thank you to **_**It Dawned In Fire**_** for her lovely comments.**

**And also to **_**Sherlocked Until Death**_**, **_**Speisla Cartoon Cartoon**_**, **_**Kilimiria**_**, **_**Chabits. 0**_** and of course **_**It Dawned In Fire**_** and **_**Stardust**_** for reviewing the last chapter! It means a lot to me. :D**

**Enjoy x**

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Two months later, things between Sherlock and Irene had changed.

For the better, Irene thought happily as she hurried to her advanced English class. Apparently what she had considered to be a small step during their second biology lesson had actually been a big step for Sherlock, and though his comments had occasionally been piercing and annoying at first, he soon learned how to act more kindly around her and the two became friends.

Still, their friendship wasn't as strong as Irene wanted it to be. Sherlock, she discovered, was actually a rather shy person when he was expected to socialise and actually wanted the person he was socialising with to have a favourable opinion of him. While he was generally forward with her, she quickly realised that he wasn't really used to even having friends, and he wasn't quite sure how to act. Sherlock was generally confident enough that this didn't bother him, but with her he seemed to falter. Bit though their friendship was still a slightly a tentative one and only really existed within the confines of the biology classroom, but it was enough for Irene to be content.

Sherlock too, was strangely happy with the fact that Irene was now his friend. He couldn't quite pinpoint what he felt for her, but knew that he liked her – genuinely liked her and enjoyed her company. The feeling had been developing very gradually over the years, but in the coming days after she had thanked him and talked to him after their second biology lesson, it him with full force, surprising him so much that he stayed silent for a second. It was a new, but not unwelcome feeling.

"Sherlock?" Irene had asked him when he broke off what he had been saying suddenly as he had his epiphany. "Sherlock, what's wrong?"

Sherlock shook his head and cleared his throat, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Nothing. I'm fine".

Irene smirked slightly, raising her eyebrows. "No you're not" she had stated simply. "You just stuffed your hands in your pockets. You always do that when you're either irritated or you don't know what to do."

Sherlock's eyes widened, both in surprise and appreciation.

"How do you know that?" he asked, though not defensively. Irene looked at him in slight confusion, not understanding why her remark would have such impact on him and shrugged.

"I observed" she said simply and Sherlock took a second to absorb what she had just said. Suddenly his face suddenly broke out in a wide smile, thrilled that he had finally found someone who he could understand and relate to.

Since then, he had suddenly looked forward to his biology lessons even more. Having a friend was new to him, but he liked it. All the years in primary school he had preferred working alone, though on very few occasions he had been mildly jealous when he saw people doing things together. That had been when he was very young though, and since then, no one had really caught his attention.

The mere idea of finding friends had been completely extinguished in primary school, when he realised that others bored him. Even at that age he realised he was smarter than others and the slowness of his peers had immediately repelled him. But Irene with her silent observations and quick intelligence had somehow managed to capture his attention.

But Sherlock also realised now that it wasn't just about someone else capturing his attention, it was also a question of the said person _liking_ him.

Sherlock knew from early on that people didn't like him much. Mycroft had smirked when he had come to him stubbornly for some sort of explanation and had said that others couldn't understand him and were surprised by the way he saw the world. Sherlock had accepted this as enough of an explanation, but early on it had bothered him. He had preferred to be clever rather than liked, and while people tolerated him, no one had truly liked him until Irene came along.

He enjoyed the friendship they shared, but he was not one to socialise, so he restricted it to the biology room. He had no intention to be part of Irene's huge clique.

He did enjoy Irene's company, but he hadn't changed drastically. He immersed himself in things that interested him (and as such he had already finished reading through his whole biology textbook in the first week) and kept mostly to himself. He enjoyed school more now that they had more interesting subjects and the textbooks kept him busy in his spare time. Mycroft had got a promotion and was barely ever at home. While he missed his brother's company, he now had Irene.

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"Your father worked in the army and is now retired" Sherlock guessed while he and Irene were waiting for Miss Jennings's arrival. Irene shook her head, trying to hide her smug expression.

"No" she said with a straight face, but couldn't resist a small smile when she saw frustration show on Sherlock's face.

This had been a guessing game Sherlock had started when they had grown bored of waiting for their teacher. In the free time during their lesson, he was determined to find out as much as he could about Irene.

She could see that Sherlock knew everything about others simply from observing them and was both surprised and delighted when he couldn't read her with the ease he managed to read so many others. And while she knew he hated it, she thought he looked adorable when he was pouting. Not that she would _ever_ tell him that.

"You lived in America for at least five years" he mused thoughtfully and quickly looked at her for confirmation. She grinned and nodded.

"6 years" she corrected him. "But it was good guess" she added, while Sherlock frowned at her. "How did you figure it out?" she prompted to cheer him up.

"I recently read a short text about languages and accents by children and teenagers" he said, shrugging. "Going by that, I tried to determine how long you could have stayed in America by your way of speech."

Irene raised her eyebrows, impressed and…well, almost flattered. It pleased her to know that Sherlock had spent so much time and effort trying to figure her out.

"So, five years, American father and English mother, considerable amount of money, and moves to two major countries…" He sighed. "You spent six years in America…I suppose ambassador or diplomat would be a bit of a long shot, considering the general time for someone with that position to stay in a country is 3 to 5 years."

Irene nodded in confirmation.

"But your father's job probably had some if not total input on your move back to the United Kingdom" he continued, more to himself than to her. He frowned for a few seconds, deep in thought. "CIA agent?" he asked with a small smile, knowing that even he was being rather drastic now. Irene laughed.

"My dad?" she asked incredulously, before composing herself. "No…although I see so little of him that he might as well be and I wouldn't know it."

Sherlock heard the small twinge of sadness in her voice but ignored it. He knew that Irene wanted to desperately see more of her parents, but he didn't know what to say to it. He had learned that his comments could easily upset people, so he kept quiet.

Unlike her, he no longer desired much contact with his parents. He saw them from time to time (whenever it suited them), but he no longer felt as if he needed them around him constantly. He had Mycroft and now Irene and that was enough for him.

"Airline pilot?" he asked, suddenly inspired by how Irene acted when they discussed her father. She didn't seem to blame him for not being around all the time, and if he was an airline pilot then it would explain his absences. Not to mention that Irene's family was very rich and a high ranking airline pilot could achieve a salary of approximately 134 000 US dollars.

At that moment Miss Jennings entered and the students in the room (who had been conducting their own conversations) lapsed into silence. Sherlock was frustrated that he had got no answer to his question, especially now that he could have finally been right.

As soon as Miss Jennings' head was turned Sherlock stared at Irene imploringly and she smiled, shaking her head. Sherlock ground his teeth with frustration, knowing there would be no opportunity to talk for the rest of the lesson. The thought that he had another week to think up new professions for her father did nothing to console him.

Luckily, Irene seemed to sense his inner turmoil and pushed a piece of paper torn out of her folder across the table towards him. He grabbed it immediately, concealing it from his teacher's sight and read the note Irene had written.

**He was a lawyer. **

He frowned, wondering how he could not have figured that out.

**But then why did you move?** He wrote back and waited for the appropriate moment to push the note back to Irene. She smirked as she read his question.

**My mum is English. She missed her home.**

Irene looked over at Sherlock and smirked at his sour expression.

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**Thank you for reading! **

**The interactions between Sherlock and Irene are really fun to write. **

**Please tell me whjat you think!**

**Laura xx**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you for all the lovely feedback!  
>Regarding Nimfka's question, about whether I would write some chapters about Irene and Sherlock when they are older soon, ….umm, not really. :) Sorry. The story has three major parts, and this is still the first one. The second one will be when they are a little bit older, and the third part will focus on "A Scandal in Belgravia". I know it seems like very slow progress, and that most people will probably want to read about their meeting in the episode we all know and love, but that will take a while. I've added more dialogue to this chapter though, so hopefully that should make it a little more bearable. <strong>

**Oooh, and did I mention that love is in the air? :DDD**

**Enjoy! x**

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Sherlock and Irene's friendship continued to thrive over the following months. After another few failed attempts, Sherlock finally managed to figure out something correctly.

"You love animals" he observed after their lesson and Irene turned around and then flashed a bright smile.

"Correct," she said, and Sherlock didn't even try to hide his smug expression. "How did you know?"

"You were very active in the lesson today." He noted. "Clearly, you've informed yourself about the topic of animal rights as well as animals over all. The topic of animal rights was discussed only briefly in our textbook and what you said today wasn't something you practiced, you were well versed in it, so it's obviously something that's very important to you. Conclusion - you love animals. You haven't got a pet yet, so I assume your parents don't want one.

Irene nodded, her eyes wide. She had seen Sherlock perform deductions before, but this was his first proper one concerning her. Also, whenever he told her any of his conclusions, about anybody, he never spoke them as fast as he had now. Irene supposed it was to impress her.

"I'm very impressed" she told him when she saw his still smug, yet also expectant expression. He nodded in satisfaction.

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Irene enjoyed Sherlock's friendship, having no friend like him. She had grown to like Jessie, with her bubbly and sincere character, and even Cecily was still her friend, even though she was a bit slow on the uptake by most things. But Sherlock was completely different compared to them, he challenged her, he made her think, and with him she could truly be herself. In her clique there was always a certain pressure to act as the others wanted you to act, but with Sherlock, Irene was rid of all that.

However, she wasn't entirely sure just what she meant to him. From what she had seen over the years, Sherlock simply did not have friends, and she knew that the relationship he shared with her was the first proper sort of warm friend - and companionship he had had in his life. She also knew he valued her, because it was rare for him to let people in, but what if she was interpreting too much into their relationship? The smiles he gave her occasionally were encouragement enough, because Sherlock barely ever smiled, but other than that she wasn't really sure what level they were on.

She would have loved to have him as a best friend, and as a steady part of her clique, but of course he refused when she tried to introduce him to her friends.

"If they're anything like Alice, Irene, then I have no wish to know any of them." He had told her. Irene had protested, saying that some were lovely and even clever (he had rolled his eyes at that bit), but to no avail.

She sighed. She really wanted to bring him out of his shell a little bit. Sherlock was nice to her, and as soon as everybody realised what a lovely person he really could be, he would be able to have lots of friends.

Deciding to not give up just because he had refused to meet her friends, she also tried to invite him out with them. After school, when she, Jessie, Cecily, Alice and James had made plans to go to bowling she had spied Sherlock in the main hall and waved and called to him. Sherlock had raised his eyebrows at the small group and Irene jogged over to him.

"We're going to a bowling arena" she called out to him. "Do you want to come?"

Sherlock had determinedly shaken his head and Irene sighed, and walked back to her group of friends. "Never mind then" she muttered more to herself, but James heard her.

"He's a bit strange" he commented lightly, trying to ease Irene's mood, but instead receiving a glare in return.

"He's my friend!" she said strongly, and James sighed but nodded.

"I apologise." he told her, sounding sincere, and Irene smiled at him, accepting his apology.

Alice of course, could not keep her mouth shut. "No, James is right. Sherlock's always been strange, since primary school." She huffed slightly and stuck her nose in the air. "_I_ never liked him." she commented somewhat dramatically. "I don't see why you make the effort, Irene."

Irene frowned at her. "He's nice," she immediately defended him. "Once you get to know him. He's helped me a lot in biology."

"If he was really your friend, he'd come along with us so he could be with you. And to make you happy." Alice said, and Irene's frown grew. She opened her mouth to disagree with Alice but James shook his head and put a hand on each girl's shoulder.

"I'm sure he's a nice person if Irene says so," he told them. "Let's not get into a fight over this, shall we?"

Irene smiled at him gratefully and he grinned at her with a look that made her a little weak in the knees.

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After that episode, Irene didn't bother to invite Sherlock along for some time. She didn't resent him for it, because she realised grudgingly that she couldn't completely change him, but she knew he wouldn't agree anyway, and she didn't such a little thing to come between them.

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Both she and Sherlock finished their first year of secondary school with good report cards. Irene had As in almost every subject except for mathematics, but she had an excellent grade in English and biology. The latter she mostly owed to Sherlock, who had explained anything she didn't understand to her and even talked about things he had already learnt by reading ahead and experimenting by himself. Both she and Sherlock used this knowledge in the lessons and they were seen as very advanced students.

Even Sherlock's report card was better than usual. He had excellent marks in all sciences as well as maths, but thanks to Irene, also a good grade in English, a subject that had never interested him. Although his English was good, the subject generally bored him to no end, but Irene had talked him through it. While she didn't make it any more exciting, he was determined to try. A (very) small part of him wanted to make her proud, while the other (much bigger part – namely his ego) wanted to simply prove that he could get a good grade.

The second year was uneventful. Irene maintained her popularity, although her relationship with Alice suffered. Irene wasn't very sorry; she had never really liked her. She knew that Alice (no matter what she said) was jealous that Irene and Sherlock had managed to become friends. Irene thought it was a little ridiculous for Alice to still bear a grudge. Whatever had happened between her and Sherlock, it had been in first grade for goodness sake, which seemed ages ago now, anyway.

While she grew a lot more distanced to Alice, Irene grew closer to James and Jessie. She was sweet and occasionally a little naïve, but she truly liked Irene because of who she was, not just for her popularity. She was sincere and honest, and she was like the sister Irene had never had.

James (though slightly arrogant at times) was nice to Irene, and his behaviour and affection for Irene seemed genuine. He was nice to talk to and he could relate well to her lifestyle. Both of his parents were lawyers, and he saw little of them too. Irene sympathised with him, and they made each other less lonely.

There was more to her feelings for James though. His stare, his smile, his lovely chocolate coloured eyes…Irene had to admit she found him cute. Whenever he looked at her in that special way he seemed to save only for her it made her weak in the knees and caused butterflies to erupt in her stomach. She was a little surprised when she experienced these feeling – however large her friend group was, she still preferred to work alone on most occasions, but not where James was concerned.

Once he had been over at her house, looking through her photos and teasing her while she had attempted to concentrate on her homework.

"You looked really cute as a little kid," he had said, while Irene blushed slightly.

"You mean when I was all done up by my nannies?" she asked laughingly, though a tiny note of bitterness laced her voice. She was still angry at her parents for being such a small part of her childhood.

"True." James admitted with a smile. "I think you look prettier when you wear your hair the way you do now."

Even though the way he had said it held no shy or overly romantic tone, Irene's heart still lurched. No one had ever told her that she looked pretty.

"Thanks" she said almost shyly, a bigger blush adorning her cheeks. James grinned triumphantly as he pulled out another one of her in frilly swimmers, squinting at the camera.

"But this one beats everything else" he laughed, and Irene gasped when she saw the embarrassing photo.

"Give that back!" she cried, but James held it up when she tried to grab it.

"I think this one is too special to destroy, Irene."

Irene groaned and jumped up to reach it, which resulted in her falling on James and both of them tumbling to the ground, with him on top of her.

She gulped then, realising just what position they were in. For a second she felt as if he was looking deep into her eyes and she suddenly wondered whether he would kiss her. She wasn't sure whether to look away, but James quickly recovered.

"Are you alright?" he asked, helping her up, and Irene nodded.

He grinned again then, and Irene relaxed, the tension suddenly gone.

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Sherlock noticed that Irene seemed slightly more distracted and prone to day dreaming in her lessons, and, although he was disappointed, having hoped that he would be able to completely relate her, he didn't care that much. Unlike Irene, he was perfectly happy to work alone.

But he knew that something in their relationship had definitely changed when he had been telling her his latest deduction, and she hadn't paid any attention.

"So you see, it can't have been the year 9 boys who vandalised the boy's bathroom yesterday, because I know that one of them has just had his house repainted and has some sort of allergic reaction to the chemical substances in the paint, so he couldn't have had any part in it. And even if he had, his clique would have stolen the cans of paint from his house, especially since they used a paintbrush instead of spray cans. I already know who it was, because of the paint smudge on her shoe today. Shall I tell you?"

He looked at Irene eagerly, waiting for her to excitedly tell him that he shouldn't keep her in suspense, but no such answer came. Instead of even facing him, she was doodling something in her biology book, which was angled in a way that he wouldn't see the exact contents.

He frowned in annoyance. He didn't mind Irene daydreaming occasionally, but this was an _important_ _deduction_. A small part of him felt rather hurt that she hadn't listened to him – she was the only one who ever admired his deductions, everyone else thought they were stupid and made up.

"Irene?" he prompted, a small tone of anger seeping into his voice.

"Hmm?" she asked, almost dreamily, still not looking at him.

Sherlock shook his head and moved his chair further away from hers, annoyed. If she didn't want to talk to him and was too busy with thinking of mundane, ordinary things (and he suspected he knew exactly what, or rather _who_ she was thinking about), then fine, she could do as she pleased. He could concentrate on his biology.

"James is nice, isn't he?" she said suddenly, a small smile on her face, confirming his suspicions. Sherlock simply arched one eyebrow sardonically and rolled his eyes. He hadn't intended to be mean, just sarcastic, but when Irene didn't even notice that he found himself wishing that he had incited her anger, just so he could have some sort of reaction from her.

Later, when Irene was explaining something on the board to the whole class he stole a peek at her notebook, where she had been writing something in earlier. He sighed as he read what was in the margins. The whole space was filled with James's name and love hearts, as well as a combination of it with Irene's. He closed the book and pushed it away from himself determinedly, sighing to himself.

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**Aww, Irene and James. He's quite the charmer, isn't he?**

**Hope you liked it. I would love to know what you thought!**

**Laura xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**Yes, I know it's been ages.**

**And yes, I am horribly sorry. **

**Sadly, I have a feeling that this will become rather frequent. I grossly underestimated the amount of work I need to do for school, so updates on my stories might only happen once a month.**

**Flyaway 213, I'm afraid that James is **_**not**_** gay. Sorry :) Also, to all the people who think Sherlock is jealous…hold that thought. :D**

**As ever, thank you for all your reviews and enjoy!**

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After what Sherlock had witnessed of the biology incident, it was no surprise that in their third year of secondary school, Irene and James started dating. Tension had been between them for months, but they had both (without telling the other) decided to wait until they were 14. It was some sort of unspoken rule between them, necessary conduct in the families they had been brought up in.

But they made their relationship official only a couple days after the start of the school year. Sherlock had been one of the first to hear about it, though it came as little of a surprise to him. Alice had walked up to him, and for the first time in years actually talked to him.

"You've heard about Irene and James, right?" she had asked almost gloatingly, as if this announcement would suddenly cause Sherlock to become upset and jealous. He just shrugged.

"Are they finally dating?" he questioned, and smiled slightly when he saw the surprise on Alice's face.

"Obviously." she managed to say back. "I hope it doesn't come as much of big blow to you. I know the two of you used to be friends."

"I think it came as more as a big blow to you." he responded calmly. "You've wanted to be together with James for ages, right? That's why you always went out with him and Irene, even though you don't like her. You wanted to make sure that James's attention was fixed on you. Too bad it didn't work out."

He grinned in satisfaction and walked away from Alice, leaving her behind him, seething. He rolled his eyes. If she hadn't tried to stick her nose in his and Irene's business, she wouldn't feel upset right now.

He was surprised that she should think him to be jealous. He and Irene were still friends, though he had to grudgingly admit to himself that most of her conversation topics would now probably revolve around James. He supposed he couldn't exactly blame her for that, from what he had read about the subject (and he had made sure to inform himself fairly thoroughly on the subject as soon as he had seen that Irene was infatuated with her classmate so that she wouldn't manage to catch him off guard and tease him for not understanding emotions) it was common for most people to form some sort of romantic attachment with someone during this time and often only think about the said person. Apparently this was especially common with women, so he had already prepared himself for the fact that conversations with Irene would be very mundane and rather one sided.

He was disappointed, because he had really hoped Irene would be different from others, and she wasn't, at least not as much as he would have wished. But he still liked her, because she was the only one who truly returned the sentiment, and he definitely appreciated that. He supposed they would no longer be best friends, but he had no intention to completely terminate the friendship.

Besides, Irene's infatuated state would certainly be interesting to observe. He himself had never been in love (and wasn't really intending to fall in love either), and he only really felt affection for Irene. Mycroft…he wasn't sure if he would describe the feeling as affection, especially since Mycroft always put on such an important and snobby air around him. And besides, he was barely ever there, his job kept him busy, and he had purchased a house in central London instead of staying at the Holmes estate. But he did look after him and visited every other weekend, so Sherlock knew he felt some warm feeling towards his brother. His parents were a different matter.

His father was never around. Sherlock neither wished nor cared for his company. He did see his father occasionally, but they barely ever spoke. He had made it clear that he had preferred Mycroft, the perfect heir and son, and that Sherlock was just one child too much. There was very little love on either side…the feeling could only be described as cold tolerance combined with thinly veiled contempt.

His feelings towards his mother were slightly less cold, but certainly not affectionate. He could recall that his mother had looked after him as a toddler, and had always insisted he and Mycroft play together, although the elder Holmes had always found the activity quite boring. Sherlock had been eager to please his mother, especially since he saw so little of her, but his mother had always been angered by the eventual fight that broke out between the Holmes brothers and had left them in the care of their nannies. Sherlock's boisterous energy and inquisitive nature had slowly become too much for her and while Sherlock occasionally spent time with her during holidays and weekends, he felt hurt by her rejection. Over time the hurt had become resentment and then faded into indifference.  
>Parents were supposed to support their children, and his parents did nothing of the sort. They cared about Mycroft more, and the resulting jealousy that Sherlock felt had never gone away, as much as he tried to hide it.<p>

No, he wanted to stay friends with Irene, no matter how changed she would be. He didn't like being dependent on others, but he had to admit a small part of him needed her.

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Irene was so happy when James finally asked her out. The way she felt around James was so new and confusing, but exciting and intoxicating at the same time. His smile, his eyes, his lovely and warm personality…he was all she could think about.

She felt so at ease with him. He was sweet, kind, funny but also genuinely interested in her. When she had first got to know him, she had assumed he had wanted to know her because of her sudden popularity, just like so many other people, but over time she noticed that he wanted to know more about her. And even though she realised she liked him during the second year, she had decided to wait and take everything as slowly as possible.

But now it was different. She was fourteen, she felt mature and completely ready to start this new stage with James. Even though she enjoyed being around people, especially since she was an only child and spent less time with her parents than she would have liked, over the years she had grown to be a loner and relied chiefly on herself. Although her friendships with Cecily, Jessie and Sherlock had changed that to a large degree, she was still careful to whom exactly she gave her heart to. She knew her parent's marriage was no longer such a happy one, and although she had only been 11 years old when she realised that it had started to slowly fall apart, she resolved she would never, ever allow such a thing to happen to her.

But she was so sure that James was perfect. The fact that he had waited for her to make the decision, instead of forcing her into some sort of relationship already meant a lot to her, but the fact that he was so concentrated on her and on what she wanted made the whole relationship perfect.

She was so happy with James that she didn't even think about what Sherlock would say. She saw him on the first day of school, but even though they had spent the whole summer apart (she had stayed in London, while Sherlock had gone to France with his mother) their reunion was fairly short. He had looked pleased to see her, and she had been thrilled to see him, but her mind was filled with other things.

It wasn't until break time before her biology lesson, when she was sitting at her usual spot in the cafeteria with James, Cecily and Jessie that Alice flounced up with a smile to sit next to them, smiling. Irene's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Hi Alice!" she said, forcing a bright smile. James grinned slightly, knowing that Irene didn't feel half the delight her smile expressed at seeing her, but kept quiet, gently squeezing Irene's hand. Alice's smile grew wider.

"You're so sweet together." she commented, and Irene's face suddenly showed genuine happiness as she turned around to look at James, a slight blush adorning her cheeks.

"Thanks." she said, while Jessie laughed.

"You were sweet during the first two days," she joked. "But now that the initial stage has passed, your lack of attention for anything but each other is rather annoying."

Cecily rolled her eyes, sighing dramatically. "Leave them be, Jessie. You're just jealous."

"I have a friend I could set you up with, Jessie" James volunteered with a playful smile. "If you're really that lonely." Jessie just groaned and covered her ears, while everyone else laughed.

"Speaking of jealousy, though" Alice butted in and shifted her gaze to Irene, "Sherlock doesn't seem very happy."

Her statement had the exact effect she had hoped it would have. Irene sat up straighter, turning her body away from James to stare at Alice with wide eyes.

"What do you mean?" she asked sharply. "Have you spoken to him? What did he say?"

Alice shrugged, while James raised his eyebrows, a feeling of slight jealousy rising in his chest. He wasn't happy that Irene suddenly dismissed him because of Sherlock, but he knew that they were good friends and supposed it was obvious that Irene would care about what he thought.

"I just asked him if he heard about the two of you."

"And?" Irene questioned persistently, suddenly feeling guilty that she hadn't gone to talk to Sherlock or even call him since the school year had resumed. She knew he didn't have any other close friends, and it suddenly dawned on her how lonely he must have felt.

"Well, he didn't seem too surprised, but he definitely wasn't happy about it. I think he was hoping you might get together…After all, you're the only friend he has."

Irene bristled at Alice's comment, which was clearly meant to be offensive, but realised she had just thought the same thing herself. But was Sherlock really unhappy with the fact that she was together with James? She and Sherlock were just friends; there had never been anything there to suggest there was more to the relationship. Besides, he had had plenty of time to realise she fancied James, he should have been able to deduce that something would eventually happen, with his brilliant mind.

She shook her head. "I think you're wrong." she told Alice almost coldly, but she just shrugged.

"Maybe I got it wrong" she answered nonchalantly, as if the subject didn't bother her at all. But she had achieved what she wanted. Irene turned away from James, a thoughtful yet flustered expression on her face.

"But I never did anything to suggest that we..." she trailed off, before once again shaking her head. "Forget it. I'll see him in biology anyway."

She turned back to James with a shy smile on her face, realising she had been rather rude. "Sorry about that." she whispered quietly, but he shook his head understandingly.

"He's your friend. Of course you don't want him to be upset. For the record, I think you being worried about him shows what a great friend you are.

"And besides" he said in a low voice as Alice turned around to chat to Jessie, "I saw him yesterday, and he looked perfectly content. He even said hello to me. So I don't think you have to worry."

Irene nodded, but on the inside she felt turmoil. She wished Alice was just making this stuff up, but what if the feelings Sherlock had for her went deeper than friendship? The last things she wanted to do was hurt him, but she was happy now. She had only been together with James for a few days, but she already felt as if she could spend forever with him. It was an unrealistic, silly romantic notion, but right now, Irene wanted to believe it.

She shook her head firmly. Break time would be over soon, she could talk to Sherlock in biology. Until then, she could enjoy her time with James.

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**That's going to be one interesting biology lesson. **

**I know it might seem a really quick story along the lines of: Sherlock is jealous, Irene realises this and dumps James because she realises she actually loves Sherlock, they're together for some time, but Irene moves away and they break up and don't meet until ASiB.**

**It's not. **

**I just realised that this story will be a long one, and I mean very long. I'd say I'm about two thirds through part one…so expect lots more chapters!**

**Thank you very much for reading and please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you for the reviews! Without further ado, enjoy!**

**Oh, and I should quickly add that James is NOT Moriarty. (A BIG thank you to Speisla Cartoon Cartoon for pointing that out because, weirdly, it never occurred to me)**

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Sherlock sat quietly in his seat in the biology classroom, ignoring the buzz and murmur of voices around him, deep in thought. The classroom was surprisingly already full of people and the volume of innate chatter was slowly becoming unbearable. Many people were too busy catching up, even though school had started nearly a week ago. Somehow, the time spent in school had not been sufficient for everybody to relate their accounts of the two months spent apart.

Irene entered the classroom only slightly apprehensively, her sudden excitement at seeing Sherlock again suddenly outweighing her awkwardness at having to talk to him about his feelings for her.

Even so, spying him at his usual seat, staring moodily into the distance made her feel a twinge of guilt. But the longer she tried to avoid the imminent conversation, the more she would probably be hurting both of them so she took a deep breath and all but marched over to him, expecting to see either anger or some trace of sadness on his features, but he didn't even seem to register her presence. Shaking her head, she sat next to him, raising an eyebrow at his continual oblivious state.

Briefly smirking at the thought of simply letting him stay like that for the rest of the lesson, she loudly banged her textbook on the table to get his attention. It was just like their first lesson together; he blinked, startled, but instead of the shock that had adorned his face in their very first lesson his face broke out in a wide smile when he saw her. Irene couldn't help but smile back.

"Hello" she said brightly. Her questions and unsettled feelings remained in the back of her mind, but she couldn't hide her happiness at seeing Sherlock again. She had genuinely missed him during the holidays.

"How were your holidays Sherlock?"

He wrinkled his nose. "You know how they were. Or at least, you can guess."

Irene smirked slightly, knowing how the Holmes family tended to spend their vacation. "France with mummy and Mycroft?"

"Obviously." He said, but he was smiling. "It was exceedingly tedious. Father couldn't come, of course, and to get me out of her hair, mummy tried to make me socialise with all her friends' children there. She thinks I need someone to talk to." He rolled his eyes.

Irene smiled at the mental image. "Well, at least your mum paid you some attention. Mine was busy most of the time, but we did go on a few day trips. But I was mostly at home."

Sherlock inwardly grinned at Irene's statement. "Alone?" he questioned, a sly quality entering his voice while Irene frowned, her discomfort returning."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, judging by the almost non-existent awkwardness between you and James on the first day of school and the fact that I overheard you talk about what you did together two weeks ago, I'm guessing he was a frequent visitor. And you don't have to tell me I'm right this time, I already know it."

"Sherlock," Irene began, carefully, lowering her eyes to her book, trying to formulate her question. He frowned at her sudden discomfort, but said nothing, deciding that given this was the first time she was dating a boy, she probably still felt awkward discussing the relationship so openly. He smirked briefly at how he had managed to read Irene's emotional state with such ease.

"Alice came up to me today…"

"Hardly surprising, considering you and James are now the most talked about couple in our year…"

Irene looked up, there was no bitterness in Sherlock's voice and if he did indeed feel jealous, he hid it well: There was a smile on his face and he looked fairly unaffected.

"Right. Anyway, she hinted that you…weren't happy about the thing with James."

Sherlock almost grinned at her word choice. _The thing with James._ Well, if that was what she chose to call it, then fine.

"I assumed." Was all he said indifferently, realising why Irene had suddenly become awkward after mentioning James and feeling slightly put out that he hadn't quite managed to deduct her exact emotions after all and had so jumped to wrong conclusion.

Of course, he should have foreseen this. If Alice had come to taunt him, it wasn't surprising that she would do the same to Irene.

Irene's eyebrows rose, suddenly annoyed with the fact that Sherlock was being so damn difficult to read. Generally she understood him and the way his mind worked, but now that she was trying to see him as a typical teenage boy, she was confused.

"What do you mean, you assumed?"

"What exactly did Alice tell you?" he began, but quickly cut her off. "No, let me guess, she hinted that I was unhappy with the relationship, jealous of James because of his…closeness to you and felt left out because you're one of the very few people I choose to associate myself with?"

"You pretty much summed it up." Irene said. "And…are you?"

Sherlock, who had turned to check if Miss Jennings had arrived yet, looked back at her, frowning.

"Am I what?"

Irene sighed, wondering if he was being deliberately vague and annoying or if he genuinely didn't understand.

"Unhappy with the relationship. Jealous of James. Mad at me for leaving you out and barely talking to you since school started." She said, listing all the things that had made her feel so uncomfortable and guilty. She was determined to finally understand Sherlock's feelings and as a result spoke a little too loudly, so that several of her fellow students whipped around to stare at the two of them.

"I mean," she rushed on in a quieter voice, seeing the incredulous look on Sherlock's face, "I'd understand if you were angry. I've been spending so much time with James that I barely paid any attention to you and you're one my of my best friends."

"Irene-" Sherlock said, but she barely registered him.

"And I suppose I should have told you about James sooner and everything and I should have called you when you came back from France or met up with you instead of doing all of this now, but-"

"_Irene_." Sherlock said again, and this time the sudden and unprecedented gentleness in his voice caught her attention. She looked up at him and was surprised to see that he was actually smiling slightly, and once again the gentleness on his features caught her off guard. She had never seen him look so…compassionate before.

"I'm not mad at you" he told her gently and Irene breathed a sigh of relief.

Of course, Sherlock couldn't stay so sympathetic for too long and immediately turned back to his old self. "Of course, I am a little disappointed that you actually swallowed everything Alice told you even though you know that she doesn't like you, or me. I'd hoped you would be a little more observant there."

Irene laughed slightly, knowing Sherlock didn't actually want to insult her.

"So you're fine with it? The fact that I'm dating James?" She clarified, just in case he decided to be annoying again.

He shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be? And honestly Irene, it's not like it wasn't _obvious_. What surprised me is that you waited so long to finally get together with him. I mean last year you were practically sighing his name every few seconds-"

"I was not!" She cried indignantly, but she laughed all the same. Everything was in perfect balance again. Without even thinking about it she threw her arms around him. He stiffened for one millisecond, caught off guard at Irene's sudden display of affection (even though they were friends, their relationship had always been more about mutual feelings and personalities. It had never been _physical_.)

Even so, Sherlock relaxed slightly and put one arm (slightly awkwardly) on her back, just as Miss Jennings walked in.

"As much as I love a good hug myself, I'd prefer to start the lesson, if you two lovebirds wouldn't mind!" She announced loudly. The rest of the class laughed and Sherlock and Irene sprang apart, blushing slightly at Miss Jennings' assumption. But Irene couldn't resist shooting Sherlock a grin as soon as Miss Jennings turned around and Sherlock, after raising one eyebrow at her, tentatively smiled back.

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**Thanks for reading.**

**I'm wondering, do you feel as if the story is going too slowly? I read through it recently and obviously everyone wants to get to "A Scandal in Belgravia" because that's where it comes together, but we're still so far away and I'm not sure whether to add another bit to this chapter. The only reason I didn't want to is because it's right before a turning point in regards to James and Irene's relationship and I feel that that would be too fast, because their relationship is pretty important in shaping Irene's character in the episode. **

**However, if you are getting bored and want the tempo to pick up a bit, please tell me, either in a review or in a pm. This is really important because it affects the way I have the story planned out.**

**Thank you!**

**Laura x**


	10. Chapter 10

**So, hello *peeks out from behind corner.* **

**I know that this update took ages, and I am very, very sorry. I got caught up in school, work experience and skiing (not necessarily in that order). Anyways, I'm back now, and in a few weeks my exams should stop, so updates will definitely be more frequent. **

**I should warn you, there is a bit of a time jump in this chapter. Nothing horribly drastic, but we've moved forward approximately a year from the last chapter. Just to clarify, it's a few months before the end of the school year (the one that started in the previous chapter) and Irene is now nearly 15, Sherlock is 15, and James is nearly 16. **

**Enjoy x**

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It was two weeks before her fifteenth birthday.

Looking back, she could hardly believe that time had gone so fast. She took one last look at herself in the mirror, checking that her eyeliner wasn't smudged and that her hair was neat. James was picking her up in fifteen minutes to take her out – he wouldn't tell her where. Irene had used to love surprises, but she had never been as determined to spoil one as she was now. She had tried desperately to find out what James had planned, secretly enlisting both Jessie's and Sherlock's help, but while Jessie had earnestly tried to worm the answer out of James, Sherlock had simply smirked.

"James and I barely talk Irene." He had told her shaking his head when he figured out just how much she wanted to know. "It would be very suspicious if I just suddenly started quizzing him about where he's taking you."

So, after nearly two weeks of excitement and curiosity, Irene was ready to burst. But even so, she was thrilled with the romantic touch of it all. Cecily and Jessie spent a lot of time discussing boys now, and both of them had agreed that surprise dates were _very_ romantic.

And that was exactly what James was. Over the year, their relationship hadn't diminished, but instead had grown much stronger. Sure, they had small fights (or skirmishes, as Irene preferred to call them) occasionally, but they never lasted long and the two of them had always managed to work things out by being open with each other.

And even though Irene knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that she was still very young; she was convinced that James was the one. She loved him more than anyone in the world and couldn't imagine a life without him. He was everything she had always envisioned in her Prince Charming: gentle, sweet, funny, charming, compassionate and kind.

One thing she was very thankful for was that he never made her do things she didn't want to do or didn't feel comfortable with. She had heard stories at school of older girls who wanted to take things slow with their boyfriends only to get dumped, because boys only really cared about the physical side of relationships. But James never gave her any hint or indication the he was unhappy, and Irene, while she felt very sorry for the other girls, was overjoyed that she had someone as perfect as James.

For the fifteenth time she checked her watch and tapped her foot on the floor. James wasn't due for another ten minutes. She sighed and turned back to the mirror. She wanted to look perfect for him.

"Stop fussing Irene, you look fine." A voice suddenly called, and Irene whirled around, surprised. Her mother stood at the top of the stairs, clad in a silk dressing gown, looking tired but with a smile on her face.

"Thank you." Was all Irene said in return, not quite knowing why her mother had chosen to make an appearance. Her parents had (predictably) taken little interest in James, though after several months they had finally managed to remember his name. Her mother had even met him a few times, and as far as Irene could tell, she had no objections to the relationship

"Where is he taking you?" her mother asked as she made her way down the stairs and towards Irene. Irene shrugged, annoyed. 

"I don't know. He says it's a surprise. He just told me to wear something nice."

Her mother nodded, and the two of them looked at each other, neither quite knowing what to say. The awkward silence was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"That'll be him." Irene said, taking her coat, eager to see her boyfriend. She paused for a second, wondering if her mother had anything more to say, but she simply nodded and turned towards the kitchen. Irene sighed and opened the door, her face immediately breaking into a smile when she James. He grinned at her.

"Hello." He greeted her, kissing her briefly on the mouth. "You look beautiful".

"You don't look too bad yourself." Irene teased. James was dressed in a black suit, his dark blonde hair combed to one side and his dark eyes sparkling.

"Will you finally tell me where you're taking me?" she asked, as they made their way down to James's family's car. The chauffer opened the door for her.

"Definitely not." James said with a smile as they drove off. "It's supposed to be a surprise, remember?"

"It's not going to be like the party you took me to last month, right?" she asked, sighing inwardly as she recalled that particular gathering. She hadn't known who was hosting the party, all she knew was that it was someone older than her, who has imply decided to invite half the school. She and James had decided to go. What she had not expected was the large amount of alcohol that had seemingly been added to every beverage. She could barely remember the second half of the evening. All she remembered was going there, having a few drinks, talking with some people and making out with James. In the morning, she had woken up in her bed with a note from James saying that the family chauffeur had taken her back to her house and that her parents had no knowledge of the party.

James laughed at her question, but quickly turned serious. "Well, now that you mention it, this date is actually sort of a peace offering. I should never have taken you to that party. So tonight, I promise it's just the two of us." He grinned. "And I'm not telling you any more than that".

Irene sighed, deciding she may as well wait until they got there.

"Was that your mother I saw earlier?" he asked, changing the subject. Irene nodded.

"Maybe she finally realised I exist." she joked, but her expression quickly turned serious.

"I don't know how long it'll last, but I guess I'm glad she's taking a bit of an interest. She didn't say much, but… I think she's happy for me".

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James' special surprise turned out to be a candlelit dinner.

"This is brilliant." Irene whispered to him as they waited for desert. She pressed his finger under the table. "Thank you."

His response had been to kiss her, before whispering 'I love you' in her ear. Irene glowed at hearing him say that.

Later that night, after James had kissed her goodnight and dropped her off at her house, Irene lay in bed, thinking. In the past few months, her relationship with James had changed. Slowly the relationship had not only become about spending time together with the occasional kiss, but also increasingly physical. They hadn't gone extremely far, but the kissing had escalated to the point where it had left them both gasping desperately for breath, wishing they could go further. And tentatively, over the course of the next weeks and months, they had.

There had been instances where she had been close to saying yes, when he spent evenings at her house or they went to a party hosted by friends. The evening always ended in frantic passionate kissing, with their hands roaming over each other's bodies, always being so close to the edge, but ultimately, Irene had always chosen to stop and James respected her decision.

Because at 14, Irene knew that she was too young, and she didn't feel ready. But now, after him arranging such a wonderful evening for her and telling her he loved her, she decided that she wanted to. James had never pressed her, but she knew that he wanted this too.

Her fifteenth birthday would be the night she decided. With that resolution in mind, she drifted off to sleep.

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The next day was a school day, and she had a lesson of double biology. Even so, she barely paid attention to what was going around her that morning. She was too busy imagining how she would tell James.

She also couldn't deny that she was a little worried. After all, sex was a big step, but she knew that in the end it would be completely worth it.

Sherlock noted her distraction when she arrived in biology, greeting him with a simple 'hi', before frowning and staring off in to the distance.

He shrugged and dismissed her pensive state. Irene was Irene, he could never be able to completely understand what was going on in her head (although her certainly spent a good deal of time trying), and he decided that maybe she was just having a bad day. But when she didn't talk to him for the whole two hours (and they had a substitute teacher who knew nothing about biology and simply let them do what they wanted), he grew worried.

Over the year the two of them had become much better friends than they had been. While Irene spent more and more time with James, she also made time for him and somehow they had learned to understand each other better. Sherlock guessed that the change in their friendship wasn't a huge thing for Irene, but he had realised that he had never felt so close to anyone other than Irene. It was ironic really, that her relationship with James had also brought the two of them closer together, especially when Sherlock had suspected it might do the exact opposite.

Irene was his best friend and he trusted her.

However, in the last couple of months, her utter devotion to James had slowly started to worry him. He knew that Irene really cared about him, loved him, even, because that much was plain for everyone to see. But it was the way that she seemed so wholly dependent on James that worried him. As far as he knew (or rather, hoped) James cared greatly about her as well, but Sherlock knew that if James hurt her, it might just break her. And right now, with Irene being so silent, he was worried that things with James had taken a turn for the worse.

He frowned and decided to do what he did best: observe and deduct. Even after all these years, Irene still wasn't easy to read.

He frowned. She didn't look overly upset: there was no sign that she had been crying, and she certainly looked fairly composed. She wasn't sitting slumped over in her chair, but her posture wasn't rigid-she showed neither defeat nor anger. The silver bracelet James had given her to celebrate their six month anniversary was still hanging ion her wrist and Irene's finger still occasionally traced the shape of the heart on it. If James had hurt her, that bracelet would not be on her wrist.

It was strange, but Irene seemed okay. The only thing that had him worried was the fact that she was being so damn silent and thoughtful. But then again, he was like that all the time, and it didn't mean he was upset.

He sighed and decided that Irene was probably okay. He had learned that if Irene felt uncomfortable about something, she would generally resolve the issue by talking about it. And if she chose not to, she probably just had a lot on her mind.

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After biology, Sherlock watched James carefully as he crossed the cafeteria over to where Jessie and Irene were sitting. Irene whispered something urgently to Cecily who nodded, and they both looked up with smiles on their faces. Irene's pensive mood seemed to have abated.

Sherlock smiled to himself and turned away, hoping that the suspicions he had formed about James in the last few days would turn out to be completely wrong.

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**Thank you for reading. **

**Laura x**


	11. Chapter 11

**I know this chapter took FOREVER, and I am so, so sorry. My (lame) explanation is that I had pretty bad writer's block with both my stories, but especially with this one. I kept getting stuck on the same scene over and over again, to the point where I nearly gave up in frustration. However, this chapter is finally done, and the next one might be up tomorrow **

**To all my reviewers, you are superb!**

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Trying to start a conversation with James after Irene reached her decision proved harder than Irene had thought. She and James spent a lot of time together at school, and he took her out for dinner a lot, but in the week after Irene had finally decided that she was ready to take the next step with James, fate had somehow decided to intervene. James was busy most of the afternoons in the week, and school wasn't the right place to have a proper conversation with him. The first moment of privacy the finally got together was only a few days before Irene's birthday.

Instead of slowly starting a conversation and hinting what she wanted, Irene decided to be as direct as possible.

"On my fifteenth birthday, I want you to spend the night".

James turned around to look at her, realising what she meant. They had spent nights at each other houses before, but they'd always stopped before they took the final step.

"Are you sure?"

He sounded surprised, which Irene hadn't quite expected. After all, both of them had been so close to it so many times, and while ultimately James had always been the gentleman and had never forced Irene to go any further than she wanted to, she thought that he probably would have been expecting it.

"Very," she told him, intertwining her hand with his. She bit her lip when he didn't say anything, but just kept looking at her. "You're not?"

"I don't you to feel like I'm forcing you into anything." he said carefully. "I mean, you're only fifteen, we have loads of time."

"I know" she replied. "But I love you. We've been dating for more than a year and now just seems like the right time."

James nodded but didn't say anything causing Irene to frown slightly. She was touched that he seemed more worried about her, but just a tiny bit disheartened. She guessed he was just being a gentleman, but somehow his lack of…enthusiasm made her apprehensive.

He stared into the distance for a moment, before looking back to her, squeezing her hand. "You know that you don't have to do this right? I mean if you're worried that this will damage what we have, you're completely wrong."

This was not how Irene had imagined the conversation would go. "I know." she repeated. "I _want_ to." she emphasised, just in case James had simply not caught on to that particular fact. Even so, he still didn't seem as enthusiastic as she had thought.

"If you're sure. I mean, I don't want you to do this just because you're worried that we've been dating for more than a year and that I want more from you. Obviously I do-" he suddenly added after a pause, just in case Irene hadn't understood-" but I don't want you to feel pressured into anything. I love you- and for now, that's enough."

"So you don't want to?" Irene questioned, a slight blush now forming on her cheeks. She could talk about everything with James, he knew pretty much everything about her, but the frankness of this conversation, coupled with the topic that was being discussed made her feel slightly awkward.

James looked at her now, and for a second Irene thought that he looked uncomfortable too (possibly even more than her) but his expression was quickly replaced by a warm smile. "Of course I want to." He told her, kissing her briefly. "I love you" he whispered in her ear. Irene smiled.

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"Happy Birthday!" Jessie squealed as soon as she saw Irene in the hallway. Irene laughed as Jessie engulfed her in a giant hug, nearly causing her to trip.

She ignored the churning feeling in her stomach, which she had felt the second she had woken up. She was incredibly excited today, but also very nervous. Since her conversation with James, she had been counting down to this day. Even so, no one but James knew how important this day was for her.

Jessie didn't seem to sense her slight unease, and instead linked her elbow with hers and all but dragged her down the corridor, starting up a stream of conversation. Irene barely listened to her, too focused on how she wanted the evening to go.

The one highlight of her day was when Sherlock actually came up to her during recess to personally congratulate her and hug her, even though that meant having to endure what he considered painful minutes spent in her friends' company. She noted that he carefully looked at James before he left her table in the cafeteria, his eyes sweeping briefly over him. Neither James nor Irene noticed the way Sherlock's eyes tightened slightly before he blinked and arranged his face into a neutral expression.

"So, excited for the party today?" he asked Irene later on in biology. Irene smiled, but shrugged dismissively, not wanting to drop any hints about how she felt about this evening. Sherlock would be bound to figure it out, and she would rather prefer to keep the plan for the evening private.

"Guess so. A lot of planning went into it, after all. Are you sure that you can't come?"

Sherlock shook his head. In a way, he was almost glad he had a doctor's appointment today, of all days. He knew that Irene wanted him to come to her party, and he would even have gone for her, but he didn't really fit in with any of her friends and Irene's attention would probably be focused on James anyway.

"Sorry." he told her, but Irene smiled, dismissing the issue. In a way, she was almost glad that he wouldn't be there. She knew that Sherlock couldn't read her as easily as other people, or at least that's what he always told her, but even so it was perfectly possible that if he did attend the party, he would realise what a step she would be taking. He was the last person she wanted to know.

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"I know you always complain about your parents," Jessie told Irene later that evening, as she danced over to the table, filling up her plate with food, "but the fact that they let you have a party like this is awesome. I mean, you've got a DJ and everything!"

Irene smiled slightly, but didn't respond. While Jessie's parents were strict, they really loved their daughter. Jessie sometimes complained how over protective they were and how they would never really leave her alone, but Irene secretly envied her friend in that respect. But tonight she didn't feel like telling Jessie any of this, or starting a debate about her own parents. While she was happy that she could have this party, she wished that she could have talked the arrangements through with her mum and dad. When she first presented the idea to them, her father nodded at her, but immediately went back to his workroom, giving the clear impression that talking about his daughter's party was a waste of his precious time. Her mum had been enthusiastic, which surprised Irene pleasantly, and she had hoped that just maybe they could spend time together planning it. However, her mother had completely crushed those hopes when instead of sitting down with her and helping her organise the party, she got a professional organiser to do it instead. Irene still felt slightly bitter, but she had already decided that that was most certainly not going to spoil her feelings this evening.

So, instead of detailing her feelings out to her friend, she just smiled and nodded.

"Seriously though," Jessie continued. "I know your house is huge, but we're all making so much noise….I'm surprised your parents haven't started complaining yet."

"My father's away, actually" Irene said. "Some sort of business trip. He goes on a lot of them these days. My mum is here, but in another part of the house. I don't think she really minds the noise."

Still, Jessie did have a point. Initially, Irene had wanted a small party, with just a few of her closest friends. None of them knew how important this evening was to her, but even so it hadn't felt right to share such an important occasion with such a large amount of people. In the end, however, encouraged by her friends, Irene had decided to invite her whole class. After all, she had been invited by a lot of people to their parties, even if she didn't always attend, so she figured it would only be fair if she invited them to her party as well. And after that, it didn't seem fair to leave out the last few in her class. Out of all the people who had been invited, Sherlock was the only one who wasn't here.

Everyone else seemed to be enjoying the party though. The party organiser her mother had decided to hire had been great and full of great ideas, and now the room was tastefully decorated and the walls were almost vibrating from the loud music. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, laughing and dancing along to the music.

"James and his friends seem to be enjoying themselves." Jessie nodded to the other side of the room, where James was talking animatedly talking to some of his friends. Irene smiled to herself. In his jeans and tight black shirt, James looked incredibly handsome. Jessie grinned at Irene's expression.

"See?" she said. "I know that you wish your mum had helped you more with the party, but at least she won't be checking on you and James every few minutes, like my mum would if I had a boyfriend. You and James could get up to anything you want, and your mum wouldn't be there to interrupt."

She laughed slightly at her joke, before noticing that Irene was blushing. Hard. She had expected Irene to laugh with her, acknowledging how much stricter Jessie's parents would become if they found out their daughter was dating, but she hadn't expected for Irene to be embarrassed and look away.

"Wait a second..." she began an idea suddenly forming in her head, while Irene bit her lip and voided eye contact. "You and James, you're not-"

Before she could finish her sentence, Irene grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the room, not wanting anyone to overhear their conversation. She blinked slightly as her eyes adjusted to the bright light in the living room, but didn't stop until she could hear the music fading away.

Jessie stared at Irene. Before, the carefree atmosphere, loud music and the flashing lights had made her feel almost giddy, but now that she was alone with Irene she suddenly felt very level headed.

"You and James…" she repeated, starting at Irene. Unable to finish her sentence, she swallowed and tried again. "He's staying here? "

Irene nodded. "He's spending the night. We agreed to it a few weeks ago."

"You're going to…have sex with him?" Jessie asked slowly, saying it out loud. Irene became even redder. She had expected Jessie to be giggly and evasive about it, as most of her other friends would have been, but Jessie was unexpectedly playing the role of the responsible parent.

"Whose decision was it?" Jessie asked bluntly. She was younger than Irene, but she suddenly felt years older. She liked James, and thought it was sweet that Irene had someone who cared about her, but she hadn't been prepared that Irene would take such a step. She knew that while Irene didn't like showing it, she wasn't as confident as others thought she was and that she was worried about not always being good enough for other people. Both Irene and James were very popular; James especially with other girls in his year. Jessie was worried that Irene might feel worried that James would break up with her and as a result would consent to anything James asked of her.

But Irene didn't understand why Jessie would ask such a question, especially since she had hoped for support from her best friend, instead of scrutiny. Jessie's question suddenly made her very angry.

"Mine!" she snapped. She was annoyed that Jessie would think that she was being pressured into this. Even James had been hesitant for the same reason, and she was getting sick of it. She felt like they were both treating her like a little girl who was unable to make her own decisions without being influenced by others.

Jessie didn't look offended at Irene's tone. Shock was still evident on her features. "I don't want to make you angry." she said patiently. "But Irene, you've just turned fifteen, and this…this is a huge step. You are sure about it, right?"

Irene sighed. Deep down, she knew Jessie cared about her, but right now, she wished that Jessie could just understand her feelings.

"Look." she said, knowing already that her tone was far too harsh, but not caring. "I know you don't know what it's like to feel this way. _You_ don't have a boyfriend, so _you can't possibly understand_ my feelings right now. But I love James and he loves me and I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I don't care if I am young, I made this decision and I'm sticking with it. It's what James and I both want, so you can stop assuming that I felt pressured into making this decision, okay?"

Jessie stepped back, hurt visible in her eyes. "Fine." She answered. "I just wanted to make sure that it was your decision." She sighed slightly, avoiding Irene's eyes. "We should get back to the party. They'll all be curious as to where you've gone."

Irene nodded, already feeling bad. Jessie wasn't one to show it when she was angry or offended, but Irene could see that her words had hurt her. But right now, she was still annoyed.

Jessie hurried out of the room, and disappeared in the crowd of people. Irene sighed, deciding that tomorrow she would call Jessie and apologise to her about the way she had acted. Right now though, it was nearly midnight, and most people would start leaving soon. She took a deep breath, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. Not long to go now, she thought to herself, taking another deep breath, making her way over to James.

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"Hey sweetheart!" James almost yelled over the music as he reached out to hug her. Irene smiled, burying her face into the crook of his neck.

"Everything okay?" James whispered to her, although it came out more as a yell.

"Fine." she replied. "I just wanted a hug."

"Listen" James said, taking her hand and stepping away from his friends, "if you're nervous about tonight, then-"

Irene shook her head, cutting him off with a kiss. "Don't even think about it." she told him. "Like I said, I'm fine."

He smiled affectionately at her. "Okay. Would you like to dance?"

"I'd love to."

She smiled to herself as James put his arms around her waist. These were the moments she loved with James, when he would hold her and make her feel safe and loved and cherished, or when he would hold her hand when they walked through the school halls, knowing that everyone could see that they were together, or when they would make jokes together and she could laugh and laugh and was convinced that she could never, ever feel happier. She wished that Jessie could understand how that felt.

"The party's going to die down soon." He whispered to her. "Do we just kick all these people out?"

Irene laughed. "That's the plan, yes. My parents' drivers are going take them home. It'll be just you and me."

"I look forward to it" James told her with smile, kissing her head.

Irene smiled, suddenly feeling much more relaxed. Everything would be fine. Tomorrow she would call Jessie, tell her how perfect everything had been and how happy she was and apologise for acting mean at the party. And the bond between her and James would grow even stronger than it was now.

Yes, she was sure that she had made the right choice, no matter what Jessie had said.

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**Thanks for reading! Next chapter should be up soon!**

**Laura xx**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks for all the lovely reviews for the last chapter!**

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When Irene woke up the next morning, James was still asleep, on the other side of the bed. Irene rolled over and looked at him sleepily, details from the night before immediately flooding her mind. She sighed and stretched, mentally going over the details of the previous evening.

After everyone had left, the nervousness had started to return. Jessie had been one of the last people to leave and had given Irene a long hug and a tentative smile. Irene tried to reflect confidence and certainty in her smile, but found she couldn't. She wanted to do this with James, but now she was suddenly wondering if she should have waited a little longer. But the last thing she wanted to do was to tell James that she had chickened out, so when he asked her if everything was alright she just smiled, making sure to look as convincing as possible.

As she and James made their way quietly up the stairs to her room she kept taking deep breaths. James took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly; he didn't seem to be nervous at all.

It was strange actually; Irene had been convinced that sex was so important, such a significant step, that she would remember every moment of it perfectly. But most of it was just blurred. The kisses, touches and sensations seemed to melt into each other and instead of knowing exactly what had happened and when, as she had been convinced she would, Irene could only remember everything vaguely. The only two points which remained crystal clear in her mind were the pain, and, later, James looking into her eyes and whispering that he loved her.

She had thought that she would feel on top of the world, she was a woman now, and, more importantly, that evening had properly cemented her and James' relationship. But after James had fallen asleep, instead of feeling overjoyed, she just experienced a strange mix of feelings: confusion, relief, happiness. One thing she was certain of though: James was perfect. When he kissed her and drew his arms around her, she couldn't remember feeling more in love with him than in this moment. In that second she had never been so convinced that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

She had whispered that to him a few minutes later, but got no response. When she carefully turned around to look at him, he was already asleep.

Maybe it was good he hadn't heard her, she decided, after the initial disappointment. She was certain he loved her, but things like this might be better left unsaid.

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"So? How was it?" Jessie asked later that day. Irene had called her and asked her to come over right after James had left. She didn't seem at all offended about the night before, to Irene's great relief.

Irene shrugged. "I don't know. I mean it was good and everything…it's sort of hard to describe, to be honest."

Jessie nodded, concern on her features. "You're okay though? I mean James didn't..."

"Would you lay off about James!" Irene cried. "Seriously, I don't get what your problem is with him. I thought you liked him?"

"I do! I'm just asking, alright? Sex is a big step for a girl, not so much for a boy. I'm just concerned."

"Well, if it's so important to you, James was the perfect gentlemen okay? For the last time, he didn't pressure me into anything." Irene sighed, but couldn't be angry at Jessie for long.

"Sex is weird." she finally said, while Jessie laughed. Irene smiled. She decided to be completely honest. "I was really nervous, but James was lovely; really reassuring. He was really calm about it, so that it calmed me down as well."

"Continue." Jessie said with a grin.

"I don't really remember much about the whole thing actually. It's all sort of vague and blurry, a bit like a dream. I think it was because I was so excited, that everything just flew past me, you know?" She bit her lip. "I kind of thought I would wake up feeling different this morning. More grown up, more confident, but mostly, I just feel relieved."

Jessie smiled understandingly. She wished she could ask more about James, and how Irene felt about him now that they had slept together, but she decided it was better if she didn't. She did like James, she was friends with him, but in the past few weeks she had got the impression that something was off. He was still lovely and charming and friendly, but there was something different in his eyes when he looked at Irene. Jessie couldn't judge, she didn't know what he and Irene talked about and got up to in their private time, but it worried her. His behaviour suddenly seemed less natural, but he and Irene seemed just as much in love as ever, and since Irene still talked about James as if he were the most perfect person on the planet and there was absolutely nothing to indicate that she was upset in any way, Jessie had decided to stay out of it. After all, as Irene had reminded her yesterday, she didn't have a boyfriend, so who was she to judge?

"Just relieved?" she asked carefully after a few seconds of silence. Irene looked surprised, and realised that she had left out the most important part.

"No, of course not! I mean, I'm glad that I don't have to be scared of sex anymore, that's why I'm relieved. But James…" for a few seconds her whole face lit up, and Jessie could swear that she had never seen her best friend look so very happy.

"I sometimes felt that he wanted more from me, just because so many other girls like him, and might have been ready to take that step with him." Irene continued. Jessie raised her eyebrows, realising she had been right, after all – Irene's insecurity had been a big factor in the whole thing.

"But he actually tried to persuade me that I was wrong, and that I didn't have to feel pressured into having sex with him just so I could keep him by my side. I was kind of worried that he wouldn't want to, but he was just concerned for me. When he saw that I was ready, he was excited about it too. I mean, isn't that lovely? I am so lucky to have found a guy like him."

Her face glowed, and in spite of herself, Jessie smiled. Irene's happiness was infectious. Jessie was starting to regret her words from last night - it seemed that when Irene had assured her that she had nothing to worry about and that this was her decision and that she felt ready, she had been speaking completely truthfully after all.

"And later, when he held me in his arms…" Irene smiled almost dreamily. She turned to face Jessie. "I know I told you that I wanted to spend my lie with him yesterday, and I thought I meant what I said. But falling asleep with him yesterday, I have never, ever been so sure of anything. _Ever_." She smiled, looking slightly embarrassed, but her eyes were shining. "I know I'm only fifteen." She told Jessie quietly. "And I know that I've only ever been together with him, but Jessie, I am so, _so_ sure that he's the one. Really."

Jessie's mind was reeling. Irene had said the same thing to her yesterday evening, but for some reason, Jessie hadn't really taken her seriously and had dismissed the statement. But now that Irene had repeated it, and had really truly meant it, Jessie was pretty shocked. She knew Irene was a romantic and that when she got attached to someone, she would love that person will all her heart. And considering that her bond with her parents was a lot weaker than it should be, it wasn't surprising that Irene was so emotionally reliant on James, but Jessie had never really realised that Irene had feelings of such magnitude for him.

"So, speaking of your prince charming," she said with a smile, while Irene laughed at the analogy, "where is he now?"

"Oh, he had to go home. His dad's been away, and he came home yesterday and wants to take James to some sort of seminar. He doesn't really want to go, but he doesn't have much choice." She smiled ruefully. "He can't come tomorrow either, unfortunately. Apparently his grades aren't really pleasing his parents, so they've hired a tutor for him." She rolled her eyes. "Not that he needs one, the worst grade he's had all year is a B minus. But he told me that extra tutoring will be good for him and help him get better grades overall and academic results matter to him as well, since he wants to be a lawyer like his parents."

"Two days without James…" Jessie teased with a grin. How will you possibly be able to bear it?"

Irene laughed at her friend's teasing. But although she didn't want to admit it, she missed him already.

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**Thank you for reading! Just in case the time line is a bit confusing, Irene and James have known each other for about two years, and have been a serious couple for a little more than one year. I know it doesn't really seem as if so much time has passed, but it will play a role in either the next chapter, or the one after that.**

**The next two chapters will still feature Irene and James heavily, but after that Sherlock will come back into the game. :D**

**Reviews are much loved!**

**Laura x**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello everybody! Thank you to all the fabulous readers who reviewed! Here is the next chapter, along with a small dose of angts :)**

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Something was wrong.

Irene couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something in her relationship with James had changed.

It had been nearly three months since her birthday party. Since then, it was normal that she either spent the night at James' house or he at hers. School kept them both busy on most days, but James was still being tutored in most of his subjects. Irene didn't really understand why, since his grades were excellent, at least in the subjects she shared with him, but whenever she asked him he would explain to her that he needed to get the best grades possible in every subject to fulfill his dream of being a top-notch lawyer. At least he had told her that the first time. Irene jokingly brought his excessive tuition up over the course of the next few weeks, and by then he had become irritated by her line of questioning.

That was the first time she had sensed that something wasn't quite right. During the whole time they had been together, he had rarely raised his voice at her, especially not over such a trivial issue. Although Irene decided that he was just frustrated, after a year of thinking that they were one of the perfect couples who never fought, the argument was enough to shake her and make her doubt the way the relationship was going.

Even so, she went on as if nothing had happened and wanted to spend all of her free time with him, but he tended to get angry whenever she asked when they could go out together. In the year and a half they had been dating James had never really been irritated with her wanting to spend more time with him. The first time she had dismissed it, along with the argument they had had about his tutoring, because he had immediately apologised, claiming he was under stress. However, the second time he hadn't, and this time, she had been left feeling shocked and angry.

It was her fault, she immediately decided, once the anger and hurt no longer controlled her emotions. He was her boyfriend, but he was also his own person and she was micromanaging the way he spent his free time. And besides, he spent most weekends at her house; she couldn't expect him to spend every second of his time with her. He had his parents, his friends, other acquaintances.

Whenever he spent time with her though, any doubts she had would vanish. She and James would spend hours talking and making jokes. Sex also became normal occurrence, but Irene decided that while she enjoyed the physical closeness, she preferred talking to James more. Initially she had been worried that this would bother him, but he didn't really seem to mind much.

For a while, that calmed her, and she told herself to stop being so insecure. After all, questioning James's behaviour would do far more harm than good, especially since it was her acting up, not him.

Still, telling herself that didn't work for long. Her feelings were completely irrational; just because James was spending a little less time with her than he had used to was absolutely no reason to freak out. But Irene felt that there was a gap growing between them. James was still funny, sweet and charming, he still kissed her the way he always had, but sometimes she would be telling him something and she would look over to him and see his eyes unfocused, looking as if he was a million miles away.

At the beginning, she decided that she was being irrational, and didn't mention what she felt to anyone. At school James still sat with her every lunch break, Cecily still called them "the perfect couple" and James still behaved the way he had a year ago. Sherlock never said anything negative about James when Irene talked about him in biology. It seemed that none of her friends had sensed a difference, so it was stupid to bring up the subject with Sherlock, Jessie, or with James himself. So instead she laughed along with everyone's jokes and smiled when people told her that she and James made a cute couple and told herself that everything was normal.

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When James came over that night, Irene was already in her pajamas, sitting on her bed, her hair all done up. James raised his eyebrows.

"Is there some sort of fancy dress code I don't know about?" he asked with a smile, eyeing the makeup, the hairdo and the new, fancy and rather revealing pajamas. Irene grinned slightly.

"No." she told him as she put her arms around him and kissed him. "You're perfect just as you are."

James kissed her back, but frowned slightly when she started leading him to the bed. "What's this? I thought you wanted to watch a film and eat popcorn tonight."

"That was the plan." Irene informed him. "But I've changed my mind and decided on something more…exciting."

She was lying, but she didn't care. Initially, the plan had been to simply curl up with a film in the living room, and eat popcorn and pizza. But Irene decided that tonight she wanted to get closer to James, just so she could satisfy herself that she was being completely irrational with her fears. She had been looking forward to a simple relaxed evening, but the more she thought about it, the likelier it seemed that James would find that sort of an evening boring. After all, he was the one who preferred sex. Although Irene enjoyed sex, because she loved being close to James, feeling the sexual tension between them and seeing the look in his eyes when he kissed her, she mostly preferred simply being curled up in his arms, with his nose buried in her hair, talking or laughing. But tonight she thought she would surprise and indulge him instead. Besides, if this is what it took, she would be happy to have sex with him every day, just to keep him close.

James laughed slightly as Irene almost pushed him down on the bed, straddled him and kissed him. He didn't have anything against the evening's activities, although he was surprised.

It wasn't until nearly two weeks later, when Irene had insisted on sex every time he spent the night that he started to get suspicious. When he asked if anything was wrong, Irene shook her head, but the expression in her eyes clearly told him she was lying.

"Alright" he sighed, as he climbed out of bed and began getting dressed. "Something's clearly not okay, Irene."

She looked offended. "What makes you think that?"

James raised his eyebrows. "I'm not stupid." he said jokingly, while Irene avoided his eyes. "This is the fifth time you've insisted on sex in less than two weeks. What happened to all those films you wanted to watch?"

Irene shrugged dismissively. "Nothing."

James shook his head. "Something's clearly up. Whenever I say something, you look anxious, as if you're expecting something bad to happen. Now you keep insisting on sex, although I know that you would much rather just watch a film or talk."

Irene squirmed uncomfortably. "It's just me being really stupid" she admitted, watching his eyes tighten for a second. Then his face relaxed and he looked concerned.

"What do you mean?" he asked carefully. Irene sighed. She didn't want to have this talk, she didn't want to let James know just how insecure she was. But he knew her well and he would know exactly if she was telling him the truth or not.

"This is stupid." she muttered again, and took a deep breath. "Alright, so you know how you're busy all the time now?" James opened his mouth, but Irene held up her hand, asking him to be quiet. The last thing she wanted was to make this into an argument. "I know it's not your fault and I respect your choices. I just miss having you around, and as a result, I feel like I'm putting extra pressure on you. I mean, we spend all weekend together anyway, and you have other people in your life, so it's selfish for me to expect you to spend all your spare time with me." She took another deep breath, still avoiding James's eyes. "But I just feel like there's some sort of a gap growing between us."

Beside her, James relaxed. He put one arm around her shoulders.

"Irene, nothing's changed." He told her, and Irene was amazed at how much he had managed to read in between the lines. All she had told him was that she felt some sort of distance between them, and yet he immediately realised what she really meant: she was scared that his feelings for her were no longer as strong.

She bit her lip and looked him straight in the eyes. "Nothing?" she asked, and was a little embarrassed by how small her voice sounded.

James smiled and shook his head, kissing her cheek. "Absolutely nothing." he told her, and Irene sighed in relief.

"I'm sorry" she told him. "I was being silly, and I panicked and-"

"Hey." James said, placing a finger on her lips. He sighed and looked down, almost as if he were the one who was supposed to be ashamed. "It's okay. You know that you can always talk to me about these things, right? I'm really sorry I got angry a few weeks ago, I'm just really stressed out with all these tutors and seminars my dad is dragging me to and everything." He smiled slightly. "But you're right; we've been spending a lot less time together. My parents are having a get together in a couple of weeks. Some sort of dinner party. I would be thrilled if you could come."

Irene's face lit up. "Of course!" she told him. "I can't wait."

James smile was really genuine this time, and Irene felt bad for even starting this conversation. After all, she had been right; it was just her being silly.

"I'm glad" he told her. "My parents like you a lot and I'm glad that I can have you there to talk to." He winked at her. "Without you, the evening would be dreadfully boring."

Irene grinned back, relieved and very happy.

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Irene's relief didn't last very long.

After the conversation with James, she felt that everything had gone back to normal and she knew that she had absolutely nothing to worry about. James had invited her to a number of events, including the school dance. She loved when the whole school could see the two of them holding hands and dancing together. It just reminded her how very lucky she was to have such a brilliant guy like James as her boyfriend.

Ironically, it was at his parents' dinner party where her fears suddenly started to come back. She had been talking to James's mother about how hardworking her son was. His mother had smiled and nodded.

"I and my husband are certainly proud of him." She said to Irene. "We're told he excels academically."

Irene smiled politely, although she was confused. Normally, she would just have seen it as a proud mother praising her only son. But under the current circumstances it seemed like a strange thing to say when his mum had been involved in getting him all his tutors. Still, Irene didn't really know James's parents very well, and she had never really had a genuine, proper conversation with them. Their answers to everything were always very neutral and diplomatic, said to please and flatter, instead of to offend.

"Well, he certainly works hard for it." She said.

"I suppose he must." his mother agreed. "He's very busy, probably working hard, as you say, so that I rarely get a chance to see him when I'm at home!"

Irene didn't really have an answer to that, so she just nodded politely. Already she could feel the suspicions that something wasn't quite right coming back, and she suddenly became desperate to talk to someone else, before her fears could manifest themselves again. After all, James had assured her that he still loved her and that nothing was different, so there really was no reason for her to be worried, especially this time around.

So she took a deep breath, already annoyed with herself, and was just about to excuse herself, when she saw James walking towards her. When he saw her with his mother, his eyes widened in surprise and he stiffened, his eyes suddenly looking straight at Irene. But then he walked towards her with that easy, charming smile and Irene was sure that she had imagined the whole thing.

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**Thank you to everyone for reading. I've written the two chapters after this one already, and I'm sorry to say that I made a mistake in my author's note in the last chapter. Sherlock won't be featuring heavily for at least three more chapters, but after that I promise you that the story will be more about Sherlock and Irene's friendship instead of always being about Irene and her relationship with James. Hang in there!**

**Ooooh, and reviews would be awesome. They make my day. :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello everyone, sorry for the long periods of time between updates. My spacebar is currently broken, so writing is pretty problematic, but the next chapter should be up in a few days.**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, your comments were all very much appreciated!**

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But as it turned out, she hadn't.

The next few weeks flew by, and she spent very little time with James. The first term had come to an end, and they had a week of holidays.

Irene had had a conversation about the holidays with her parents, but they had decided to once again stay in England, instead of visiting New Jersey. Irene had expected the news, and as a result she wasn't very disappointed. She did occasionally think about the few friends she had had there, but they had all been too young for her to form a really strong emotional bond with them. Besides, she had changed so much over the last few years, and she imagined that they had too. Other than a few distant relatives on her father's side, she had no one she really missed in America, and so she was perfectly content to stay in England. However, her mother had been surprisingly eager about the possibility of going back to America, even for the one week, but Irene's father made it clear that going there for such a short period of time would be a waste of money. Irene thought this was rather hypocritical; over the last year, his business trips to America had grown more and more frequent. He might think that the holiday would be a waste of money, he visited New Jersey almost every month, but her mother, for whatever reason, seemed to miss it.

Unlike her family, James and his parents were going away for the week, to visit some distant relatives of his in Scotland. James had never met them before, but his parents made it very clear that he had to go with them.

Irene wasn't thrilled when she heard the news-she had been hoping that she could spend more time with James now that they had a break from school. Even though their time had been limited and she should have grown used to spending less time with him by now, being apart from him made her sad.

Most of her friends had gone away on holiday as well. She supposed she could have called Sherlock, but he had told her that Mycroft was visiting and that his mother had suddenly been very eager to have the whole family under one roof again. Irene knew that Sherlock believed that the main, if not only reason for his mother's enthusiasm about spending time with her family, was Mycroft's return and had little to do with Sherlock himself. Even so, Irene knew that Sherlock looked up to his brother, even though he never really spoke much about him ,and she was determined that since Sherlock had been given the chance, he should spend his holiday with his family.

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Even though the holidays only lasted a week, Irene didn't realise what effect that time had on her. This was the first time she had had absolutely no contact with James in more than a year. And while the fact made her sad, she didn't realise how much it allowed her to concentrate on other things.

So, when school started again, and James returned, Irene immediately sensed that something really had changed, but this time, she suddenly didn't feel like it was just her being silly.

His smile was still the same, he gave her a kiss and told her how much he had missed her, but after that he seemed edgy, almost as if he didn't know what to say. He immediately turned to Jessie and began a conversation with her. Jessie had spent her holidays in London, and she and James were comparing country and city life. Generally this wouldn't have surprised or bothered Irene, but now she picked up in small signs that she hadn't noticed before. James's body was angled away from her, he kept changing his position slightly, and whenever she added to the conversation, he would smile at her but when her eyes met his, he seemed uncomfortable.

Initially Irene wondered if something had happened on his holiday, but the more she thought about it, the more she wondered whether or not this behaviour had been present before. What if they weren't new signs? It suddenly dawned on her that she might she simply not have noticed his behaviour before.

James was facing away from her, so he didn't see the way her eyes widened. But for Irene, the realisation shocked her.

Generally, Irene was a fairly observant person. Since she had been little, she had always taken a keen interest in observing other people, figuring out their mannerisms and habits, finding out what they liked and what they hated, and generally knowing how their minds worked. She was no expert, but she knew a fair deal about body language. Sherlock was an expert in picking up clues about people from their appearances, and while she could never possess his talent in that area, her better social skills enabled her to find things about others from their body language. She generally prided herself on this, but now she realised that in regard to James, she had been completely blind.

Immediately this revelation caused a feeling of shock and fear to manifest itself. If he had been acting this oddly in the last few weeks, maybe even in the last couple of months, then what had happened?

Around other people Irene was generally logical and reasonable, but deep down inside, she was a lot more insecure than other people thought, despite her confidence. Due to the lack of affection and approval from her parents from an early age, she yearned to be accepted and loved by other people instead. As a result, if she loved a person, she couldn't bear disappointing them. It was no surprise then that she immediately wondered if James's strange behaviour was somehow her fault. Yes, he had told her that nothing had changed between them, but what if he had been acting just as strangely then as he was now? After all, looking back, Irene had heard exactly what she wanted to hear, and maybe he had been lying to convince both her and himself. Immediately, the doubts about her relationship with James started to resurface, but this time, Irene was determined not to let her renewed insecurities manifest themselves-after all, the last time that had happened, it had rendered her completely blind to James's behaviour, even though, at the time, she had believed herself to be just as perceptive as she had always been.

She took a deep breath and looked over to James and Jessie. They were still animatedly discussing their holidays, while Cecily listened, occasionally adding her own opinions. None of her friends had noticed that anything had suddenly changed, much to Irene's relief. She decided that instead of letting mere suspicions and fears get the better of her, she could use the time she had now to really watch James. That way, she could get to the bottom of this. If she really was the reason for James' behaviour, they would have to talk about it, properly this time. The thought that this might be her fault made her feel sick-what if James no longer properly cared about her? The worst thing she could imagine would be losing him.

She closed her eyes, telling herself to be reasonable. It was still possibly that something had happened in James's family, or that the pressure his parents were putting him under really had got to him. Whatever it was, she now finally had time to figure it out.

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"So, just to make sure, we'll meet on Saturday, at your house, at 1 'o' clock?" Irene asked, as she and James stood outside her classroom a couple of weeks later.

He nodded. "I'm sorry I can't come over to your house on Friday." He told her. Irene shrugged, determined to let it go, but when she saw how uncomfortable James looked, she couldn't just walk away.

"James…" she began tentatively, just as he was about to walk to his next class. He spun around, and Irene saw the alarm suddenly appear in his eyes. She bit her lip.

"You know that if there's something wrong…if you feel unhappy or uncomfortable about something, you can tell me right?"

He frowned at her, the alarm fading from his eyes.

"Of course I know." He told her. "But what makes you think there's something wrong?"

Irene regarded him for a minute and wondered whether she should tell him that she suspected something was upsetting him now. But just as she opened her mouth, the bell rang, answering the question for her. James gave her a quick smile and dashed off to his next class, while Irene closed her eyes and sighed. They would have to talk about this on Saturday after all then.

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Irene felt lonely on Friday evening, all by herself. James not spending Fridays at Irene's house was a very recent development. Generally, no matter how busy he was during the week, he always made time to spend that one day with her. She loved waking up beside him on Saturday morning, feeling sleepy and content and just very, very happy. She always woke up first, so she would go down to the kitchen to talk to the maid and ask her to make a big breakfast. Then she would go and watch James sleep, trying to memorise the way his eye lashes rested on his cheeks or how peaceful he looked. The lazy Saturday mornings were amongst the time she felt the happiest with him. No matter how uncomfortable she had felt in the recent weeks about where their relationship was going, during those Saturday mornings, she had always been able to completely forget that something was wrong.

But now, she didn't even have that. She supposed it didn't make much difference, they would get Saturday afternoon and maybe even the evening together, but Saturday mornings felt sacred somehow. If could she see him only once in the week, she would choose Saturday mornings.

Now that she was making her way to James's house however, she felt a growing sense of nervousness and dread, but also determination. It had been less than two weeks since the end of the autumn holidays, and since then, Irene had been watching James carefully. Her observations only reinforced her belief that something was very wrong and had been for a while now. She had several theories, but nothing specific. She had dismissed one suspicion as soon as the thought entered her head, and felt sickened that she had even thought of such a thing.

The one thing that haunted her was that James's behaviour might somehow be her fault, that it stemmed from something she had done. If she was completely honest with herself, she knew that she was being irrational, it was probably much more likely something that had happened with his parents or something to do with his friends. But then again, she knew that if that really were the case, he would probably have talked to her about it. After all, she told him everything-all her own sentiments about her family, her innermost thoughts and feelings-he knew everything.

Still, the issue had to be resolved. The thing that terrified Irene the most was that he would want to end the relationship, but somehow she doubted it. While it was her greatest fear, she had thought about it a lot, and had come to the conclusion that if James still wanted to spend his free time with her and go out on dates with her and spend his nights at her house, he probably wasn't in any hurry to end the relationship.

She took a deep breath as she crossed the street, knowing that she was only five minutes away from his house now. Generally she either asked to be driven to his house or she took the bus, but today she had decided to walk; she needed time think. Now, as she made her way up the drive way to his house, she was mentally planning out what she should say to James and how she should react to whatever news he had to tell her.

She smiled nervously as a she knocked and a maid opened the door. Irene knew most of the staff from her frequent visits to James's house, but she didn't recognise the young maid who was looking at her expectantly.

"Hi." She said. "I'm here to see James." She was already unbuttoning her coat, wanting to get into the house and out of the cold (only now, that she was no longer engrossed in her thoughts did she realise that she was freezing cold and that walking really hadn't been a good decision in the cold November weather.)

The maid frowned at her. "Are you a friend of his?" she asked.

Irene nodded. She really wanted to see James and get this talk over with, so she didn't even bother correcting the maid.

"I'm afraid he's not here." the maid told her sympathetically. "You'll have to call another time, I'm afraid."

Of all the things Irene had been expecting, this was not it. "What do you mean he's not here?" she asked, completely perplexed.

"He went out about an hour ago with a friend of his."

Irene sighed, more annoyed than upset. James was very devoted to his friends, and maybe one of them had needed his help.

"It was probably Patrick" she said to herself with a sigh. Patrick was James's closest friend, although he had his own clique and didn't usually sit with her and Jessie at lunch during school. As a result, she didn't know him very well, but she understood that James might have dropped everything he had been doing if Patrick had called.

But the maid shook her head. "I think he said her name was Maria." She said.

Irene's eyes widened. She didn't know anyone called Maria and she had never heard James mention anyone with that name. Immediately, alarm bells started going off in her head and she felt sick to the stomach.

"Did he mention when he would be back?" she asked, and was surprised by how calm and level her voice sounded.

"I'm under the impression that they would be gone the whole day. He's generally gone for a while when they're out together."

"She comes here often then?" Irene asked, her heart beating out a crazy rhythm. She felt dizzy, and focused on the maid, still trying to process her words.

The maid nodded. "I'm afraid you'll have to come tomorrow, dear." She told Irene. Suddenly she noticed that Irene was shaking.

"You must be freezing!" she exclaimed. "Would you like to come inside?"

Irene shook her head mutely. She wished she could just forget this whole conversation; pretend that she hadn't heard anything the maid had told her. She didn't even want to think about what all this meant.

"No, I should be going." She mumbled, already turning around. She heard the maid wish her a pleasant afternoon, but she couldn't bring herself to reply. Just as the maid was about to close the door however, she turned around and ran back. The maid stared at her, no doubt puzzled about her strange behaviour.

"Maybe it would be better if you didn't tell him I was here." She said hurriedly. "He'll feel bad that he forgot that we were supposed to meet. He gets terribly sensitive about these things."

The maid nodded, a look of professional neutrality covering her formerly confused features.

Irene nodded at her briefly, mumbled a thank you, and walked home, feeling completely numb.

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**Thank you for reading and please leave a review!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Once again apologies for the very late update, everyone. I am very, very sorry.**

**So, how did everyone enjoy the new series of Sherlock? And Irene's appearance? :D**

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Irene could barely feel the wind as she walked back home. She felt numb and empty; there seemed to be a persistent ringing noise in her head. She couldn't think.

She was almost completely unaware of her surroundings. She could walk back from James' house even if she were blind, so she didn't get lost, even though she felt like she had no idea where she was really going. All she wanted to do was to curl up in her bed and go to sleep.

The walk to her house took over half an hour, but when she finally reached her front door, soaked through with rain and shaking from the cold, Irene couldn't even remember that that much time had passed.

She dragged herself to her room, only now realising how cold and tired she was. Exhausted she took off all her wet things, wrapped a towel around her hair and crawled into her bed. She wished she could just fall asleep and wake up again, and completely forget everything she had heard from James's maid.

But she couldn't. And now that she had finally allowed herself to think about the encounter, everything the maid had told her was still clear in her mind.

James had seemingly forgotten that she was coming over and had instead gone out with a friend. Except, apparently, this friend was a girl.

But Irene had never ever heard of this alleged Maria, and she knew all of James's friends and relatives at least by name.

She took a deep breath, going through the conversation again. Maria apparently came to James's house often, or they went out together, and when they did that, he was apparently gone for a long time. If he really spent that much time with her, it meant that they were close friends. But if she was that important to him, then why had James never told Irene about her? Unless…

Irene shook her head, as if the action could force her sudden suspicion to disappear, but it remained in her head, and now it was all she could think about.

What if…what if this Maria was more than just a friend?

But she couldn't be, Irene thought. A few weeks ago, the idea that James might be going out with someone else, had, very briefly, entered her head, but she had dismissed it immediately and had felt guilty for days afterwards for even letting herself consider such a suspicion as a reason for James's odd behaviour. After all, James loved her, he told her that every time he saw her. And it wasn't like she and James were just casually dating; they had been together for nearly one and a half years. They had slept together. It wasn't just a fling; it was a proper, grown up relationship.

She let out a deep, shuddering sigh, drawing her blanket more tightly around herself. She just couldn't believe that James would cheat on her. It was impossible.

He would probably realise that he had forgotten their date, most likely today, and if not, then tomorrow at the latest. Then he would call her and apologise and promise to make it up to her and give her a proper, reasonable explanation that was so exceptionally obvious that Irene would feel completely stupid for not having figured it out herself. And everything would be okay again.

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James called that evening, but Irene was asleep, and she didn't call him back until the next morning. James wanted to talk about what happened on the phone, but she asked him to come to her house instead, telling him that she had missed him. While this was partially true, she mainly wanted to examine the way he acted when she asked him about where he had been. She had expected for James to sound guilty and uncomfortable on the phone, but as soon as she had asked him to come over, he had sounded cheery.

His behaviour both puzzled her, but at the same time, it came as a relief. A big part of her hoped that everything had just been a huge misunderstanding. If her theory of him seeing someone else really was correct, Irene wasn't sure how she would be able to bear it. At the same time however, she was almost convinced that it wasn't.

As soon as James walked through the door however, she reminded herself that even though she was sure that he still cared about her and that she had misinterpreted the whole thing, it was important that she wouldn't jump to conclusions. So when he reached out to hug and kiss her, she didn't draw back (for this to work, he had to be convinced that she had no idea about anything) but immediately began to observe his behaviour.

"I'm so, sorry, Irene" he told her immediately, as she took his hand and led him to her room. I got home really, really late on Friday from the seminar thing that dad dragged me to. I didn't wake up til noon, and I completely forgot that you were coming over." He looked her in the eyes and gave her his most charming smile, but this time, Irene wasn't fooled. During the whole explanation he had attempted steady eye contact, but he hadn't really been able to look her in the eye. And while his smile was genuine, Irene knew that generally, in this situation, he wouldn't be smiling at her, but looking apologetic.

Nevertheless, she smiled back at him. "I see. Parental pressure, I get it." She rolled her eyes and grinned, and James's smile grew even bigger.

"Tell me about it." He sighed, sounding exasperated.

"So when did you come back?" Irene asked. James stared at her, evidently caught off guard.

"What do you mean?"

"From Patrick's house." Irene elaborated. "I came over, and Elena answered the door, and said you had to go to Patrick's house." This was a lie. Elena was James's families' usual maid, not the one she had talked to, but she had decided that since Elena knew that she was James's girlfriend, she would have covered for him.

Sure enough, James looked relieved.

"Oh right. Sorry, sweetheart. He called, probably right before you came over, saying he needed help with some sort of essay we had due for biology." He grinned at her. "Since you're really, really clever and take advanced biology it would probably bore you if I went into the details.

"Anyways" James continued, evidently having expected Irene to be flattered or laugh at what he had said, "I was so tired that I completely forgot that you were coming over. I know it's inexcusable, and I am really sorry. I promise it won't happen again."

He looked at her, one of his hands fiddling with his shirt sleeve. Irene bit her lip. He always fiddled with his clothes when he was nervous or uncomfortable.

Instead of letting him see her uncertainty, she smiled at him, and quickly kissed him on the cheek. James smiled, and leaned in to kiss her properly.

"I'm really, really sorry, for missing our date." he murmured seductively in her ear. "But maybe now would be a good chance to make up for lost time?"

Irene shook her head. "Actually, I've got loads and loads of homework. I should have done it yesterday, I suppose, but I forgot about it as well."

"Homework?" James looked surprised, clearly having expected a different response, but suddenly comprehension dawned on his features.

"Oh right, you have school until four in the afternoon on Mondays. I really don't envy you there."

Irene shrugged. "I love all the subjects I have on Mondays, so I don't really mind. Although sometimes, I wish I had your schedule." James only had school until half one.

"So I'll see you tomorrow?" James asked, he got up to leave. Irene pecked him on the cheek. "Tomorrow." she promised.

"I look forward to it." James said with a warm smile. "I love you" he called, and disappeared out the door.

Irene watched as he got into the car, and stayed by the widow until the car was gone. Then she sat on the bed, and let herself think.

James was lying to her, that much was obvious. The fact that he had told her an outright lie was already proof enough, but there were other things. He always seemed alarmed when she said that she wanted to talk, even though he really shouldn't have a reason to be, unless he had something to hide. And when he had told her about why he had missed their date, he couldn't quite look her in the eyes.

When she thought about how edgy he tended to be around her, or how he always wanted to steer the conversation away from the topic she wanted to discuss, she felt sick. He was obviously hiding something from her.

He hadn't mentioned Maria once, instead, he had seemed relieved when she had asked about Patrick.

All the obvious signs pointed to the fact that he was seeing someone else.

Irene shook her head, a tear slowly trailing down her cheek. He had been lying to her, but she still held on to the hope that she had it all wrong. After all, he had kissed her right now, and told her he loved her. James was generally very open and honest, so surely he wouldn't lie about something as profound and important as his feelings for her.

The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that she must be wrong. Deep down she knew she had expected for James to offer a logical explanation for his absence yesterday, but he hadn't, and she wasn't prepared to face what that meant.

There had to be some other explanation. She and James just fit; they were perfect for each other. She loved him with all her heart.

James was sweet, charming, kind and loyal. He wasn't the type to cheat on someone.

"He loves me" Irene whispered to herself as a form of reassurance. "He loves me and he would never intentionally hurt me."

She repeated and repeated it, until, at last, she was completely convinced that she was silly to even entertain the notion that James would do something to hurt her.

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Irene didn't sleep well that evening. She had had one of those nights, where she couldn`t remember any of her dreams, just a feeling of vague confusion and fear and irritability. Nevertheless, her persuasion from the previous night had, for now, convinced her enough to not experience feelings of dread and fear coming over her when she thought of James's behaviour the day before.

Maybe it was her weird night, but Irene felt like the day was simply drifting past her while she numbly stood there. She got up, ate breakfast and brushed her teeth without really processing any of her actions. It was like she was set on automatic and could no longer really focus on the world around her.

Still Irene preferred the numbness. It stopped her from thinking too much.

Even so, when she finally left for school, she started feeling a little more focused on everything. She recited random facts from the previous biology and history lessons while she walked, and tried to focus on all the things she liked about Mondays: the fact that she could see James at school, the fact that she had biology with Sherlock and the fact that it was simply the start of a brand new week and she never knew what could happen. She liked the idea that Monday carried the promise of a fresh start.

And she needed a fresh start, she decided. The last week had taken its toll on her, and Irene wished she could just forget everything. Since she couldn't though, Irene decided that the best solution was simply not think about anything that made her upset or worried and focus on the positive.

Yes, James had been evasive.

Yes, James had lied to her.

But he had kissed her, and told her he loved her and surely those words were more important than his occasional flimsy excuses.

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Irene felt like the clocks at her school had been purposely replaced over the weekend. The last time she had checked the clock, five minutes had passed since the beginning of the history lesson. She had waited for what felt like an eternity, only to look at the clock again and see that time had moved on only by another five minutes. She sighed to herself, and rested her head on her arms.

Usually she enjoyed almost all the subjects she had on Mondays, maths being the exception. But even that was bearable.

But today she felt like she just wanted to go home, curl up in her bed and sleep. She didn't know why she felt so tired and drained and so oblivious to everything, especially since she had always prided herself on being especially alert.

She yawned, ignoring the disapproving look her teacher sent her, and continued to watch the hands on the clock move slowly around until the bell finally rang.

It took her a moment to process the harsh ringing sound, but when she did she almost sprang up, suddenly feeling more enthusiastic then she had all day. Recess time. She could see James and be reassured by his smile, and gossip and laugh with Jessie.

Sure enough, as soon as she entered the cafeteria, she saw Jessie, already discussing something with James and laughing. Irene smiled slightly and walked over to them.

"Hello." she called. James held out his arms to give her a hug and kiss her cheek, while Jessie smiled at the two of them.

"You okay?" James murmured to her and Irene nodded, even though she didn't feel okay.

"Liar!" Jessie laughed, noting how tired her best friend looked with more humour than concern. She and James looked at each other, Jessie's eyes filled with amusement. "I think she finally realised what a bother Mondays are."

"I'm just tired." Irene grumbled. "I didn't sleep well yesterday. I don't know why."

She sat down, and searched through her bag, realizing that she had forgotten to make her lunch this morning. She gave a small sigh, annoyed at herself, and leant back in her seat. James and Jessie both noticed her silence, but both accepted the fact that she was tired, and left her alone, instead focusing their attention on their other classmates who had arrived at their table.

"Did James tell you that Mrs Rogers is away?" Jessie asked just before the bell rang, interrupting Irene's thoughts. Irene shook her head. Mrs Rogers was James's chemistry teacher.

"He's so lucky." Jessie carried on. I mean, he already only has school until one today and now he gets to leave an hour earlier."

Irene nodded, processing the information. She had a break before biology just before she left. He generally left by the back entrance, near her biology classroom. She could go and say goodbye to him.

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As soon as the bell rang for the end of the lesson, Irene quickly gathered her things and ran out of the classroom. She only had a five minute break and the science wing was in another area of the school.

She sprinted through the halls and made her way outside, crossing the playing field and walking towards the back entrance to the school grounds. James generally used this entrance because it was closer to his house, and it had several parking spots, so that it was easily accessible to his driver. Irene had left her lesson as quickly as possible and hoped James hadn't already left.

He hadn't, she realised in relief; she could see him hurriedly making his way to the gate. She was about to call out to him when she a tall, blonde haired girl climb out of a car and waved to him. James immediately waved back as the girl made her way over to him.

"Hello darling" he called out to her.

Irene watched James smile and reach for the blonde's hands, whisper something in her ear and finally capture her lips in a long, passionate kiss.

"Come on" he told her, once he had torn his lips away from hers. "Let's go".

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Irene stared at the place that James had just left in absolute shock. She couldn't breathe. She had spent the whole day feeling numb and disconnected from the world but now the numbness had left her with astounding speed. And in its place came absolute agony.

She couldn't believe what she had just seen.

Yes, she had been terrified that something like this was going on.

But only now did she realise that no matter how many times the suspicion had crossed her mind, she had never actually been ready to confront it, to truly be prepared to actually entertain the possibility that James was cheating.

She couldn't move. All she felt was pain and anger and betrayal, coursing through every vein in her body. The numbness she had wished would go away was suddenly the feeling she most craved.

She wished this could all be a horrible nightmare she would wake up from, but she already knew that what she had seen had happened, that it had been real.

But most importantly, she realised that the one thing she had held on to, James's love, the one anchor holding her above everything, was now gone.

Without anything else to hold her up, Irene sank to the ground, tears falling down her cheek.

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**.**

**Thank you for reading. :) From the next charter on, Sherlock will once again feature heavily. **

**Please leave a review!**

**Laura x**


	16. Chapter 16

Hello everybody. Thank you for your lovely feedback.  
><strong><br>So, here it comes, one of the penultimate chapters and the one you've been waiting for. I'm quite nervous about it, since it's so important, but I am mostly happy with it. There is one part I struggled heavily with and often almost edited out (I'll be more specific in the author's note below), but in the end I decided to leave it in.  
>I hope you enjoy this chappie! :) <strong>

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Sherlock was worried.

The bell that signaled the beginning of a new lesson had gone ten minutes ago, and yet the spot next to him was still empty.

They had a substitute teacher in biology today, an old, boring, unfocused professor, who couldn't care less about the lesson he was supposed to be substituting, so Irene's absence went unnoticed.

What confused Sherlock was that he had seen Irene this morning. She had seemed slightly distracted, but there had been a small smile on her face and she hadn't seemed upset in any way, so Sherlock hadn't assumed that anything was wrong. There was the chance that she had felt unwell during the day and had decided to go home, if that was the case she would have told him or she would have sent Jessie.

But since neither had happened, Sherlock could only assume that something was wrong.

He sneaked a glance at the substitute teacher. Unmarried, obviously. A recovering alcoholic. Living by himself. And currently leafing through several papers, seemingly unaware of the number of school children he was supposed to be teaching. Glad that the class had such an incompetent teacher during Miss Jennings's absence, Sherlock quietly gathered his things and simply walked out of the classroom, completely unnoticed, his mind already occupied by considering all the places Irene might be.

It was raining and the chilly early December weather effectively kept everyone inside, so Sherlock decided that Irene was probably somewhere in the building. He looked through all the halls and checked the classrooms he knew would be empty during this particular period, but he couldn't find Irene anywhere. He checked the library and the cafeteria, but they were empty too.

Sherlock sighed. Maybe Irene had gone home today, and had been unable to tell him in time. That would explain why she seemed to have disappeared. He glanced out of the window thoughtfully, scanning the oval and the soccer fields. They were completely empty.

He looked again and stared when he saw a person simply sitting on the ground. It couldn't be Irene, since there was absolutely no rational reason for her to be sitting there in this sort of weather. But as he squinted he noticed the brown hair, the slim build and short stature.

Confused, he walked outside, shivering as the wind sliced his skin. It really was Irene. She was curled up against a tree, her shoulders shaking.

He stopped a few feet away from her and stared. He had no idea what she was doing out here, in the cold, and right now, he had no idea what he was supposed to do either. He wanted to go and find out what was wrong, but surely she was out here alone for a reason. But if the reason was privacy, she could have picked a much better spot.

Just as he decided to go to her and find out what was wrong, she shifted slightly and noticed him, her eyes widening slightly as they met his. Sherlock looked at her in shock, realising that she was crying. Her eyes were swollen and red and she looked like she was in absolute agony.

Instinct took over and he immediately rushed to sit down next to her. A suspicion was already forming in his mind as to why she was out here, but he desperately hoped, that, just this once, he was wrong.

"What happened?" he asked instead, wanting to hear it from her. He put one hand on her shoulder and realised she was absolutely freezing.

Irene opened her mouth, but couldn't bring herself to answer. Instead, she looked down at the ground, silent sobs wracking her body and tears pouring from her eyes.

"You have to come inside." Sherlock told her gently, and bit his lip when she didn't react. This was bad, very bad.

"Irene." he said firmly, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Come on." he lifted her up and she didn't object. He held her up, and almost carried her into the building, immediately going into the nearest empty classroom and closing the door.

"You're freezing" he repeated and Irene nodded mutely. Her shaking fingers started to unbutton her coat.

"What happened?" he inquired again, even though he already knew. There was only one thing that had the power to affect Irene like this.

"I saw him..." she whispered, staring at the ground. "I saw him kissing-" Irene took a deep breath. She couldn't continue. The shock was still too much to bear.

Sherlock closed his eyes. He knew this was coming, but hearing it made it worse.

"James?"

Irene nodded, another tear making its way down her cheek.

"I've been so blind." she whispered, her voice broken. "I thought he cared, I thought he loved me, but all he ever told me were lies."

She took a deep breath, still staring at the floor, fighting the urge to scream.

"How did you find out?" Sherlock asked carefully, also taking off his coat and offering it to her. Irene didn't notice.

"I watched him" she said. Her voice shook with the effort she was exerting not to cry.

"He was so nervous all the time, so edgy. Whenever I wanted to talk or when I seemed unsure about something he would start fidgeting and get this look of fear and panic in his eyes. And then he was always so relieved after we talked, because he realised that I was still clueless."

She drew a deep breath. Sherlock felt awful for her, but he couldn't help but feel slightly proud that Irene had observed James's body language so well, that she had noticed the signs he had, even though she hadn't been prepared to accept what they meant.

Irene was also thinking about how she had refused to accept what should have been so clear from the start when she came upon another realisation.

Sherlock.

If she had noticed that something was wrong with James's behaviour then Sherlock must have too. And unlike her, Sherlock hadn't been blinded by feelings of love and devotion, which meant that he must have noticed much earlier on than she had.

And he had never said anything.

"Did you know?" Irene she finally asked. For the first time, her eyes met his and Sherlock was shocked when he saw the anger in them. Anger that was now directed at him.

"No." he told her, but he could see the justified disbelief in her eyes.

"I didn't know." he said, and sat down next to her, putting his coat around her shoulders. She barely noticed the action.

Sherlock sighed. He could see that she was hurt and that she didn't believe him.

"I didn't know" he repeated, "but I suspected."

"For how long?" Irene asked, a sob escaping her.

Sherlock closed his eyes. He didn't see the point of lying. "A long time." he answered quietly.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Irene demanded. He could hear the hurt in her voice.

"Because I only suspected, Irene." Sherlock told her. "I had vague ideas and notions, but never anything fundamental enough to come to a definitive conclusion. Besides, I am not exactly an expert on relationships. You loved James more than anything and you were always so very happy. I thought it best not to pry." He was silent for a moment. "I was scared". He admitted. "Your feelings were so strong, and I was scared that if I tried to convince you of my suspicions and they turned out wrong, it would ruin our friendship."

Irene nodded, accepting Sherlock's explanation.

"I've been so blind." she whispered again. "All these seminars his dad was making him go to, all the extra tutoring his parents insisted on, they were all lies. He invented them only so that he could spend time with his new girlfriend. I was just his showpiece, someone who was rich and proper and who looked good next to him at dinner parties and school dances." She burrowed her head in her hands, sobs tearing through her body.

"I slept with him" she burst out and Sherlock's eyes widened. It had never been any of his business, so he didn't know just how far their relationship had progressed. But this step he hadn't expected, even though he probably should have.

After all, Irene loved James, she would have done anything for him.

"I slept with him, thinking he loved me and that both of us wanted this." Tears fell down her cheeks. She didn't even care that Sherlock was in the room with her at this point, she barely noticed him. Sherlock sat next to her quietly, listening as she began to make sense of James's behavior.

"He was so reluctant." she continued, slightly more quietly. I thought it was because he was concerned about me, but during the whole time, he was already sleeping with someone else."

"I really thought he loved me" she whispered. "I thought we would grow old together. And yet, he never cared."

"You're wrong." Sherlock interrupted. Irene stared at him in surprise.

"What?"

"I think he did love you." he said. "In the beginning at least. Not everything he said was a lie."

"You never liked him." Irene said, her voice empty. It wasn't even a question, just a statement.

Sherlock nodded. What Irene had said was true, but it had never mattered, and it still didn't. After all, Irene had loved him and James had made her happy. That was the important bit. Sherlock's opinion wasn't.

The two of them sat there in silence for a few minutes, until Irene started crying again. Sherlock's heart broke a little at the sight. Irene had always been the strong, confident one, and he had never, ever seen her so unhappy.

He also knew that this would not pass quickly. He had never been an expert on love or relationships, but he had been able to observe firsthand how attached someone could grow. He seen how strong Irene's feelings had been for James, how devoted she had been to him and how convinced she had been that they would spend the rest of their lives together. And now it had all fallen apart right in front of her eyes and she was left only with the pain and betrayal.

Irene, he knew, was not one to do anything halfway. If she loved someone, it would never be halfhearted or fleeting. The emotion would be there, strong and overwhelming from the beginning. This meant that during her relationship with James, she had been happier than anyone could have imagined, but now that it was over, the pain would be even more severe. And James, who had known exactly how much she cared for him and what a betrayal of this sort might do to her, had gone ahead and hurt her anyway.

Right now, Sherlock wanted to kill James for doing this to Irene.

He moved closer to her and hugged her. He wished he could find something to say that could comfort her, but he knew that at this moment, there was nothing that could ease Irene's pain.

"Come on" he said after a few minutes. "Let's get you home."

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**Soooo. Phew. Glad I got this chapter over with.**

**The part I wanted to leave out in this chapter was Irene's admission about how far her relationship with James had gone. I know it felt unnatural and sort of forced, but since eventually Irene and Sherlock's relationship will become much more serious (though that will take a while, since Irene is currently in no fit state to start another relationship) this bit was important, because Irene's past with James will play a role in Irene and Sherlock's relationship.**

**Anyway, I hope you liked it. Reviews would be greatly appreciated. I checked how many of you had read the last chapter (and I have to say, the numbers absolutely made my day) and I would be thriller if a few more of you left a review.**

**Have a lovely week guys.**

**Laura x**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you to everybody for your lovely reviews. Without further ado, here is the next chapter!**

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Sherlock quietly led Irene to the secretary's office, making sure to pick up her school things on the way. Irene said nothing; she just followed him with a completely empty expression on her face. She could barley think, she didn't want to think. Whenever she went over the sight of James kissing the blonde in her head, tears sprang to her eyes and she just wished could lie down somewhere and never have to get up again.

She had thought that the feeling she experienced when she had left James's house after his maid had told her he was out with a girl was bad. But it hadn't been even close to what she was feeling right now. The numbness and the shock had been present before too, but at that time she hadn't truly been able to face the fact that James really would cheat on her. But now, after having been confronted with undeniable evidence, and having witnessed the happy expression on James's face as he kissed his new girlfriend firsthand, the shock and pain had been even greater than she had anticipated, and it was overwhelming. As much as Irene tried to tune it out, she could feel it, the pain in her chest. But as long as she stayed silent, and as long as she could stay focused on not remembering, she could try to keep her emotions at bay and not break down. She knew that if someone asked her what happened, if someone even tried to inquire about how she was, she wouldn't be able to drown out her feelings any longer.

Luckily, Sherlock had guessed fairly accurately what was going through Irene's head, and other than making sure that she was still behind him as they walked through the halls to the other wing of the school that housed the administrative staff and the sick bay, he said nothing.

It wasn't until he had knocked on the secretary's office that he turned to her.

"You're going to have to pretend to be sick." He told her in a soft voice. Irene nodded mutely, and went to sit on a chair near the office. She felt completely drained, she just wanted to go home and sleep.

Sherlock walked into the secretary's office and smiled slightly. The secretary looked up from a magazine she was reading and glanced at him expectantly. "Good afternoon." he greeted her politely. "My classmate feels sick, and I was wondering if I could call her driver and if she could be excused for the rest of the day?"

"Your classmate's name?" the secretary asked in a harsh tone, clearly upset about having her free time interrupted. Sherlock resisted the urge to sigh. "Irene Adele Aikins" he supplied, and watched the secretary get up and go through lists of students names in a ridiculously slow manner.

"Is your friend unable to speak for herself then?" she asked, still leafing through folders.

"She has a sore throat and feels nauseous."

The secretary harrumphed. "Is she invisible as well?"

"She's sitting outside, actually." Sherlock said, refraining from rolling his eyes at the secretary's obvious incompetence. "As I said, she feels sick. Would you like me to bring her in?"

He got a brief nod in return and went to get Irene.

"You have a sore throat and a bad stomach ache," he whispered to her. Irene nodded again, grateful that Sherlock had given her a reasonable excuse to avoid talking.

The secretary had finally located Irene's name and looked up expectantly as she walked in. She took in Irene's pale and drawn face, and the way she stood, shoulders hunched and her arms hugging her stomach and immediately her expression softened.

"Oh you poor dear." she almost gasped. "You really do look ill. And no wonder" she noted as her eyes swept over Irene for a second time. "You're absolutely drenched." She quickly walked over and felt Irene's forehead. "You don't seem to have fever, so that one thing less to worry about." She murmured. "But your friend here is right; you need to get home as soon as possible. I have your home number here in my records".

Sherlock quietly shook his head. Irene did look sick of course, but he still marvelled at how quickly she could get people to do exactly what she wanted them to, and without even trying. He knew that if he had walked in looking ill, the secretary would behave in much the same manner she had before Irene had entered.

The secretary gave Sherlock the number he needed and he went to the phone and called Irene's house, instructing the maid who answered to send the driver to pick Irene up, giving him the same reason as he had given the secretary.

Luckily the driver arrived quickly, and he and Irene stepped into the car, the secretary's concerned face watching them from the office window as they drove away.

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They entered Irene's house quietly. Irene just wanted to go to bed and wasn't in the mood to answer questions about the reason for her impromptu return from school. Her father had left for another business trip that morning, and Irene assumed her mother was probably in her bedroom. However, Sherlock instead found her sitting at the living room table, still, her face drawn, and looking visibly upset. She was dressed in loose garments and a bathrobe was hung up on the chair behind her. She looked up as soon as she heard footsteps and an expression of shock and surprise flashed across her face.  
>Sherlock just had time to see how her facial expression changed - her face went from tired, upset and distressed to surprised and concerned. Although Sherlock registered the fact that Irene's mother was consciously masking her expression, he didn't bother dwelling on the reason why she might be hiding her feelings, he was more worried about Irene.<p>

Irene only glanced up when she saw her mother and didn't notice her distress. She didn't want to have any sort of conversation with her mother right now, she just wanted to be alone. The last thing she currently needed was to detail out her feelings to her mother, even if she actually genuinely cared instead of just faking interest.

Irene's mother took in Irene's blank expression and her soaked clothes and moved towards her daughter, almost as if to hug her, concern flashing across her face. Irene however stepped back slightly, but it was enough for her mother to realise that Irene was in no mood to talk to her. Only Sherlock noticed the expression of hurt flicker across her face.

"Irene, what's wrong? " her mother asked instead, worriedly, and Irene took a deep shuddering breath. She didn't want to explain, because she knew that as soon as she did, she would no longer be able to distance herself from her emotions. Sherlock sensed her hesitation and quickly jumped in, answering for her.

"She felt sick at school. Nauseous and she has a sore throat, which is why I've come with her."

Her mother nodded, looking at Sherlock properly for the first time. "You're one of her friends."

Sherlock nodded. "My name is Sherlock Holmes" he said and Irene's mother's face lit up with slight recognition.

"Irene's mentioned you a few times." She said quietly. Sherlock looked surprised and even Irene looked up at her mother in confusion, almost shocked that her mother would remember such a thing. After all, it had taken weeks for her to remember James's name-

Irene drew in another deep shuddering breath, and Sherlock noticed her body tense beside him.

"I'll take her upstairs" he said hurriedly, while her mother nodded, and watched the two of them exit the room, Sherlock's hands supporting Irene slightly.

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As soon as they got up to Irene's room, Irene almost collapsed on the bed, closing her eyes. Sherlock could see her shoulders shake, and realised that she was trying to stop herself from crying.

"I'll go and get some tea." He told her hurriedly. "You need to get out of your wet things; otherwise you really will get sick."

Irene took another deep breath, and a tear slid down her cheek. Sherlock watched her as she walked to the bathroom, her posture stiff, her face ashen.

He was worried.

He had been aware of what a betrayal of this sort might do to Irene, or at least he had thought he had been. He knew how emotionally dependant she could be on people, but somehow he hadn't been ready to see her like this. This was Irene after all, who was always so happy, and open and always smiling or laughing. Normally, it almost felt like she was the one helping him, and now it was the other way around.

What James had done to her was horrible, but observing her, he would never guess that that was really what had happened. It seemed like someone had died instead, and she was now experiencing the symptoms associated with the shock that came after a traumatic event.

Sherlock bit his lip. He didn't know what to do, or how to help her. He wasn't even sure if she wanted him to stay here and help her, but while he knew that she was independent and could take care of herself, he didn't want to leave her alone. He knew how hard she had been fighting to try and distance herself from her emotions, how she had struggled to keep the reality of the situation from engulfing her. As soon as they had left the empty classroom, it seemed like Irene had gone into an almost robot like state, not speaking, her face blank.

But although Irene was the expert on emotion, he wasn't stupid. He knew that soon, very soon, she would start thinking about James and what he had done, and after that the emotions would overwhelm her completely. And he didn't want her to face that alone.

He sighed deeply and walked down stairs, coming back up five minutes later with a mug of tea. He knocked on Irene's bedroom door and found her curled up in bed in her pyjamas, her hair loose. She was staring at the wall in front of her.

He set the mug down on her bedside table. It made a loud clunking sound as the porcelain connected with the glass, but Irene barely blinked.

"Irene?" he asked, putting one hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, and suddenly tears started flowing down her face.

"Irene" he said, almost sadly now, and sat down beside her, unsure of what to do. He wanted to comfort her, but he wasn't sure how. He supposed that deep down he knew that nothing he could say or do could really help her, but he still wanted to try, he just didn't know what to do.

She stopped his inner conflict when she practically sank into him, now sobbing. He put his arm around her, but there was nothing else he could really do.

It took her a few minutes to recover, and she took a few deep, shaky breaths. "I...I still can't believe it happened." She said, her voice broken. "It wasn't supposed to happen."

Sherlock stayed silent.

"I wish I knew what I did wrong." She whispered after a while. "I thought he loved me, but something I did must have driven him to... to-"

"_No_." Sherlock interrupted her, and was surprised at how angry and passionate his voice sounded. "Don't you _dare_ try to blame this on yourself Irene. None of this is your fault. Absolutely none of it."

Irene shook her head doubtfully. "But then why..._why_ would he do something like that?" she asked quietly.

Sherlock shook his head. Personally, he thought the reason was because James was an idiot. He hated James right now, and he had never really liked him, but saying that wouldn't help. He knew that the feelings Irene had had for James wouldn't just disappear suddenly, no matter how much he had hurt her.

Irene was still trying to reconcile James's behaviour with her own. She wanted desperately to find a reason why James would cheat on her, but a small part of her also recognised that perhaps it might not be her fault. Her desperation for an explanation for James's behaviour couldn't quite make the thought go away however.

She and Sherlock sat there in silence for a while, until Sherlock interrupted. "You should go to sleep." He told her, almost expecting her to protest. Instead she nodded, gently disentangling herself from Sherlock's arms, and slipped under the covers.

"Do you want me to leave?" Sherlock asked softly. He wasn't sure what he should do now.

Irene bit her lip. She didn't want to be alone.

"Would you stay here?" she asked tentatively, feeling slightly silly. "Just until I fall asleep?"

Sherlock looked relieved that Irene had decided for him and smiled. "Of course" he told her and went to sit down in her armchair, watching her as her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep, exhausted.

It was odd, he mused, how much closer they had grown in the last hour. Irene had always been his best friend, and he had always been able to understand her better than other people, but until today he hadn't been aware that they would suddenly share such a close bond that she would not only let him see her when she was upset and in pain, but that she would actually ask her to stay and comfort her.

It seemed strangely paradoxical that it would take something that had hurt Irene so much to establish such a close friendship between them. Sherlock just wished they could have grown closer without Irene having to suffer for it.

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**After posting the previous chapter, I got a pm which said that Sherlock was behaving in a remarkably emotional way for someone who is characterised as a sociopath on the show. I already responded, but I'm going to say it again in case anyone else has thought the same thing:**

**This is an AU, in which the way Sherlock behaved as a child and as a teenager is left up to me. There will be events in his life which will happen much later on in the story, that are going to change Sherlock completely, until he behaves the way he does on the show. For now however, he is a completely different person. (And the same goes for Irene.) Sure, he feels disconnected from other people because he already realises that he is smarter than them, but he is still able to relate to things on an emotional level. At this stage, he also doesn't find feeling and sentiment to be a bad thing, that's not going to happen until later on.**

**Also regarding the issue of him being defined as a sociopath-I completely disagree with it, and it's not going to be featured in my story at all. From what I've seen on the show, I find Sherlock only has sociopathic tendencies when the writers feel it will either **

**Serve the plot or**

**Be seen as comic relief.**

**Basically, from my research, Sherlock cannot be characterised as a sociopath at all, and as such, this mental health condition will not be included at all.**

**Anyways, thank you very much for reading and please review. **

**Laura x**


	18. Chapter 18

**Hi everyone, I apologise for the tediously long periods of time between updates. A combination of a (literal) mountain of schoolwork, laziness and talent at procrastination has led to the fact that I prefer to read fan fics in my spare time rather than actually writing them. However, I am now enjoying the freedom of Easter Holidays, and have plenty of time to write and update.**

**So, here is the confrontation between James and Sherlock. Sherlock's going to be rather extroverted and direct in this one. Hope you enjoy.**

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The next day at school, Sherlock approached the table Jessie was sitting at in the cafeteria. He hadn't talked to Irene since he had left her house the day before.

(He had decided to leave as soon as Irene was asleep, but her mother had encouraged him to stay for dinner. She seemed to sense that Irene wasn't really physically sick, but didn't say anything, only hinting that she thought that Sherlock being there when Irene woke up might comfort her daughter. Irene had found Sherlock sitting in one of the spare rooms reading a book when she woke up. She was both devastated and happy to see Sherlock. She was glad to see him, she wanted to have a person to comfort her, but his being there meant that everything she had seen had really happened, it hadn't been a dream. )

Right now, Sherlock wasn't entirely sure whether or not he should tell Jessie about what had happened, since it wasn't really any of his business. He suspected that Irene wouldn't want anyone to know, since she had never liked showing any pain. But Jessie and Irene were close, and Jessie was friends with James, which made Sherlock slightly uneasy, and only added to his impression that Jessie should be made aware of what had transpired. He realised that his own selfish feelings also played a role- he wanted her to know what James had done, so that she could see past the façade he seemed to put up. Otherwise she would never suspect James for being the reason for Irene's absence from school. And even though the two were good friends, he was also aware that Jessie cared about Irene far too much to still be able to have such a good relationship with James in spite of knowing how much he had hurt Irene.

Besides, Sherlock consoled himself, Jessie would obviously notice that something was wrong when Irene didn't turn up, and it was probably better that she would find out what happened from him, instead of asking around.

No, Jessie had to be told. She knew Irene well, and she could help her more than Sherlock could.

Jessie looked up with a bright smile when she saw him. If it hadn't been for the circumstances, Sherlock might even have smiled back. He had never talked much with Jessie, they didn't have any classes together, and he had only talked to her very occasionally in Irene's company. For the most part, he had observed her from a distance and liked her. Like Irene she was friendly and always looked cheerful. And, unlike some of the other people he knew, she wasn't quick to judge.

"Hi Sherlock.", she greeted when he approached her, looking only slightly surprised to see him. She barely knew him, but she knew how important he was to Irene and she had never had any reason to dislike him. Sherlock nodded at her, a grim expression on his face.

"If you're looking for Irene, I'll have to disappoint you." she said. "I haven't seen at all yet." She frowned slightly when she focused on his expression and noted how uncomfortable he looked.  
>"Is anything wrong?"<p>

"It's about Irene." He said shortly, not really sure how exactly to go on.

"I thought she was sick. I checked at the secretary's this morning when she didn't show up for class."

"She's not sick." Sherlock said heavily. "Or at least not in the way you think".

Jessie frowned, slightly confused. "Then what's going on?"

Sherlock spied James making his way between tables. He hadn't seen them yet, but he was fairly sure that he would come over to the table as soon as he saw Jessie, and he wasn't prepared to confront him yet. He wanted to speak with Jessie first.

"Can we talk?" he asked her in a low voice. "Preferably somewhere less crowded?"

"Of course." She replied, now getting a little bit worried. "Should I go and get James as well? Since it concerns Irene, he would probably want to know."

Sherlock shook his head determinedly. "Definitely not." he said, and turned around, walking towards the door. Jessie raised her eyebrows at Sherlock's odd behaviour, but followed him.

"What's wrong?" she asked again, in a more urgent voice this time, as soon as they had exited the cafeteria.

Sherlock took a deep breath.

"I'm not completely sure whether it's my place to tell you, but I think you ought to know." He began. "Irene didn't come to biology yesterday, and since we had a substitute teacher, I went to look for her."

"I think she went to say goodbye to James." Jessie supplied. "He left early yesterday."

Sherlock nodded tersely. Jessie was surprised at the sudden anger in his eyes.

"I found her sitting on outside." He said. "In the rain. She had gone to say goodbye to James like you said, but she saw him leaving with someone else."

Jessie's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't want to jump to conclusions. Sherlock saw from her face that she hadn't understood yet, and decided to be direct.

"James has apparently been seeing someone else for quite some time."

He could see that he had finally got through to Jessie. Her eyes widened. "He's been doing what?" she almost gasped, before she managed to compose herself.

"No" she said quietly, almost to herself. "James wouldn't. He loves Irene." She looked up at Sherlock with a slightly shocked but doubtful expression.

"Not to sound rude or anything Sherlock, but are you sure? Because I've seen the way James looks at Irene, and the way she looks at him, and I'm sure that he does really love her. She might have seen him leave with someone else, but maybe she got it wrong? It doesn't necessarily mean that he's been seeing someone else."

Sherlock shook his head. "She saw him kiss her."

Jessie went still. "Oh crap." She whispered. Just like Sherlock, she knew exactly what effect this would have on Irene.

"Is Irene okay?" she asked, although she had already guessed the answer. She saw it confirmed in Sherlock's pained expression.

"She doesn't know that I told you." he told Jessie. "But after yesterday, she needs someone she can talk to. I tried to help her, but she was still so shocked, and she's still trying to make sense of it in her head. You know her well, maybe you can help her get through this."

Jessie nodded, still shocked.

"I just can't believe that James would do that." She whispered. A sudden realisation hit her. "You said that this has been going on for some time? It's not a recent...development."

Sherlock shook his head. "I haven't talked to James yet, and neither has Irene, but she guessed that he's been seeing someone else for the last couple of months."

"Months?" Jessie cried, absolutely incredulous. Her face fell. "And I never realised." she whispered. "I was a bit surprised at that beginning about how serious their relationship was, but then I saw how much they cared about each other, about how much James seemed to care about Irene, and I dismissed any doubts I had. He was so nice, so friendly, and even so, he's been lying to everyone all this time..." She looked up at Sherlock. "He hid it so well." She said quietly. "Poor Irene."

"I think Irene guessed something was wrong for a while now." Sherlock said heavily. "She told me yesterday that James had been acting differently, but of course she could never have guessed why..."

"I've been a terrible friend." Jessie murmured, almost to herself. "The whole time she was worried, and I never realised that she was upset, I never asked if she was okay.

"Thanks for telling me." She said after a while, and Sherlock nodded. "I'll go and see her after school."

"Thank you" Sherlock said, immensely relieved. Jessie gave him a small, sad smile, which disappeared when she saw James.

"I can't talk to him right now". She said, shaking her head. "She glanced at Sherlock. He doesn't know yet, does he?"

"No. "

Jessie nodded, and with a brief, sad smile at Sherlock, she picked up her bag and disappeared into the building.

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Sherlock tensed slightly as James approached him. He felt almost disgusted as he saw the confident way James walked, the twinkle in his eyes and his easy smile. James looked at him with a friendly expression, he grinned and waved.

Sherlock had to admit, he played his part well.

But he supposed, that was the worst thing about him. He really did look friendly and easy going and so completely trustworthy, and yet he was just putting on a show. With any other person, Sherlock might have admired how well someone could use emotion and appearance to disguise their character, but in this particular case, he was far too angry.

"Sherlock." James greeted with a smile, while Sherlock only nodded in return.

"I was just wondering if you've seen Irene." he inquired. "I saw her yesterday, but she seems to have disappeared today. I'm wondering of you know anything? Is she ok? Should I go and visit her after school?"

"You're not going to go anywhere near her.", he responded coldly. James laughed almost indignantly.

"I'm sorry?" he asked, but he seemed suddenly uncomfortable, as if he had just realised who exactly he was talking to. "Since when do you issue orders about what I can and can't do? Why can't I see her?"

"Sherlock stared at him, letting his anger show on his face. James looked at him for a second, and something changed in his eyes. His smile was still there, but suddenly he seemed hesitant; nervous. Sherlock watched his confidence falter with grim satisfaction.

"She saw you." he said shortly.

James's smile faltered.

"She saw...what?"

"You know exactly what." Sherlock said coldly, and watched the realisation dawn on James's face. He had the good grace to look ashamed.

"She wasn't supposed to see that" he said in a whisper, as if his statement would somehow justify his actions. Sherlock let his disgust show on his face. James barely even looked remorseful, only shocked. But Irene was the one suffering, the one who had been hurt the most. And yet James still managed to stand here, looking like he was the one who was the victim.

"You knew she loved you." he told him, and James almost flinched at the anger and venom in Sherlock's voice.

"You knew how much she depended on you, how much she cared for you. And you knew exactly what it would do to her if you hurt her in this way. And yet, for some unfathomable reason, you still did it, knowing exactly how much it pain it would cause her."

James sighed. "She wasn't supposed to see that." He repeated and Sherlock shook his head.

"In response to your question" he said acidly."No, she is _not_ okay."

James groaned slightly. "I never wanted to hurt her." he murmured.

"You should have considered her feelings before you decided to cheat on her." Sherlock bit back.

James sighed again. "I never planned for it to happen." He said. Sherlock briefly wondered if he was alluding to the fact that he had had an affair in the first place, or that he hadn't meant Irene to find out. "I cared about Irene, she was important to me. But..."

"But apparently she wasn't important enough to you to care about how this might affect her." He paused. "She doesn't know that I am here talking to you." Sherlock admitted. "And I don't want to speak for her. But I am warning you now: you will not try to see her, you will not speak to her and try to make up excuses for your behaviour, you will not go near her, and you will _touch_ her unless _she_ asks you to."

James looked slightly taken aback at what Sherlock had just said. While he still looked slightly ashamed, he now looked mostly angry. Sherlock had to admit he was surprised how swiftly James could change his emotions. Only five minutes ago, he had looked friendly and nice, and now he seemed furious.

"And since when do you decide what I can and can't do?" he asked. Sherlock raised his eyebrows coldly, unintimidated.

"I'm not the one who hurt her." he said in a low voice. "I'm not the one who lied to her for months, who used her. Because that's what you did, right? You found yourself someone who your parents would like, who looked good on your arm at parties and events, someone who boosted your image? And all the while her feelings didn't matter."

"Of course her feelings mattered!" James burst out, and Sherlock was so surprised he fell silent. James sighed, his anger abating. He seemed to realise that Sherlock knew more than he had originally thought, and felt a sudden need to explain himself.

"I did love her.", he admitted. "At the beginning. It helped that my parents approved, obviously, but I liked her for who she was. She made me happy." He sighed, not looking Sherlock in the face, choosing instead to examine the grass. "But then I met Maria, and things changed."

Sherlock knew that this was probably the most honesty James had displayed for months, but he was still so angry he couldn't resist his retort. "And yet, you didn't have the guts to tell Irene that it was over, right? It wasn't ever about her feelings, it was about _yours_."

James looked angry again, but refrained from making his own angry retort.

"I'm not blind." He said coldly, instead. "I knew how she felt about me. Everything you just said-about how I knew how much it would hurt Irene, if she found out - you're not the only who realised that. Of course I knew that it would hurt her. And I didn't want to. She thought we were happy, she thought everything was fine, and I didn't want to tell her that it wasn't. So I decided that if I just pretended that everything was normal, and made sure that I made up a valid reason for not being able to see her every day, she would accept it and wouldn't get hurt."

Sherlock gave a bitter laugh. "And it never occurred to you", he asked, "that if she found out, it might hurt her more, than if you had ended it?"

James frowned. "Of course it did-", but Sherlock cut him off.

"You can stop pretending that you were only considering her feelings. Whatever your intentions may have been at the beginning, you still lied to her, and used her, and depended on the fact that she cared about you so much that she wouldn't possibly doubt you."

"I told you, she wasn't meant to find out! And until yesterday, she was happy, wasn't she?"

Sherlock stared at James, wondering how he could be so selfish.

"No, she wasn't.", he said, finally, trying to quell his anger, and saw the surprise in James's eyes. "She's a lot smarter than you thought. You said that you weren't blind, and neither was she. She suspected you; she knew something was wrong for weeks. So I'm _afraid_, "he said venomously, "that your _noble_ plan backfired. You weren't protecting her at all, if anything, you were causing her more pain."

James sighed. "Tell her I'm sorry when you see her.", he told Sherlock. "I never meant to hurt her." He studied Sherlock for a moment, then nodded at him, and walked away.

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**Thank you for reading, and please leave a review, they are always immensely appreciated! **

**Laura xx**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hi everyone. I am so very sorry for the age it took to update. I know it may seem like this story is on a hiatus, because it always takes at least a month to update a chapter, but I can promise you that I plan to see this story through. I'm just stuck on this annoying middle ground right now, but I have the ending all figured out, and it seems a shame to waste it.**

**Anyway, as an apology, there is a chapter to come shortly after this one.**

**Just to recap: In the last few chapters, Irene suspects that James is lying to her, but can't quite face the fact and convinces herself that he would never hurt her. After deciding to say goodbye to him when he leaves school early, she sees him kissing someone else. Sherlock finds her crying and takes her home. After informing Jessie of what happened, he has an angry conversation with James about his behaviour. **

**Enjoy **

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Jessie went over to visit Irene as soon as school ended, walking to her house with Sherlock. She wasn't quite sure what to say. Sherlock seemed fairy comfortable with the silence, and other than saying hello to her, said nothing for the whole 20 minute walk. He seemed lost in thought, and there were times Jessie suspected he was angry about something. A frown marred his features, and occasionally his fists would clench and unclench. However, from the friendly smile and greeting he had given her when he had met her at the gate after school ended she doubted that his anger was directed at her.

Jessie, who generally preferred conversation to silence, was glad to be left alone with her thoughts, even though she was bursting with questions. However, she was aware that it would be impolite to bombard Sherlock with her inquiries. Besides, she doubted that he would think it his place to tell her exactly what had transpired. He had seemed rather hesitant to even talk to her about what had happened, although she had witnessed how his anger over James's behaviour had certainly acted as an incentive.

She had been trying to somehow rationalise James's behaviour for the whole day, but she couldn't come up with a sufficient reason for his actions. She also felt horrified by the fact that she had been completely blind not only to James's behaviour, but to Irene's feelings. She had always considered herself to be a good, loyal friend, and she had thought that she knew both James and Irene well. But clearly she had been completely mistaken in James. She had liked him. Occasionally she had even felt slightly jealous of Irene, for not only being in love, but for having found someone to love her back. She had never perceived any huge faults in James character- he had always been kind, funny, handsome and clever. And now she was shocked at how badly she had obviously misjudged his character. She would never have believed him capable of this. She had spent the whole day wondering how she could not have seen past his behaviour. She would never have told anybody that she possessed extraordinary intelligence, but she wasn't stupid, and she would never have thought that somebody's behaviour could have fooled her so completely

And regarding Irene- she had really been a terrible friend there. She knew that Irene, although she was popular, had always been careful regarding her choice of friends. She wasn't a person who liked to show vulnerability, and Jessie was one of the few who Irene felt comfortable enough with to share her hopes and fears with. At least it had seemed that way.

Jessie realised that if what Sherlock said was true, if Irene really had been suspicious of the way James was acting for weeks, if not months, it must have caused her great distress and fear. She thought back to all the times where Irene, though always smiling, had seemed tired, or suddenly unfocused. She had always brushed off those times- after all, it had never looked like anything serious. But now she wondered for just how long her best friend had been feeling anxious and for how long she had been oblivious to it.

Jessie didn't think she could feel worse than she already did, but when Sherlock quietly stepped into Irene's bedroom, Jessie realised she had been wrong. Irene lay on her bed, burrowed under the duvet. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were red, and her cheeks tear stained. She didn't even hear them come in, instead she was staring at the bedroom wall, her eyes completely unfocused.

Irene had always been a fighter. She was always someone who never stopped smiling, even when she felt sad, who was confident and never wanted anyone to see her unhappy. And now she just looked…empty. It was even worse than if she had been crying, because then at least she would have been doing something.

Jessie glanced at Sherlock to see what he thought of the situation. His expression looked grim, but he showed no surprise at seeing Irene like this. Jessie remembered that he had said that he had spent most of the evening at her house yesterday, so he must have been expecting for Irene to show this reaction.

Jessie took a deep breath. "Irene?" she asked quietly, and tried again, with a louder tone when Irene didn't respond. Irene jumped slightly when she heard Jessie's voice, and craned her neck slightly to look at her. It took a second for her eyes to focus on her friend, and while surprise briefly flashed through her eyes, her expression remained almost unchanged.

Her eyes rested momentarily on Sherlock, who offered an awkward smile, knowing it would not be returned, but not sure what else to say. An awkward silence filled the room.

"Irene…" Jessie started again, but broke off, wondering what to say. A question like "are you okay?" was certainly not appropriate, since Jessie already knew the obvious answer to that one. Finally, Sherlock mumbled something about making some tea and went downstairs. Irene stared at Jessie for a moment, before trying, and failing to smile. Instead, her chin started to shake, and Jessie rushed over to her bedside.

"I am so, so sorry." She whispered. Irene drew herself up slightly, and Jessie put an arm around her.

"Sherlock told you?" Irene asked, her voice hoarse from lack of speaking. Jessie nodded.

"I think he hoped I could comfort you."

Irene nodded slightly, and suddenly the blank look on her face disappeared, and a tear made its way down her cheek. "Thank you for coming." She whispered, and Jessie gave her a sad smile.

"I so sorry I didn't realise." Jessie told her. I should have seen something was wrong."

"Realise what?"

Jessie sighed. "Everything". She admitted. "That James was acting differently, that he was hiding something, and more importantly that you seemed to have noticed. That you were sad and anxious the whole time, and I never saw it. I mean, I'm your best friend. I should have realised that something was wrong."

Irene shook her head. "I didn't even realise anything was wrong." She said.

Jessie frowned. "Sherlock mentioned that you suspected James was lying for months."

At James's name, a shadow seemed to pass over Irene's face, and Jessie instantly regretted mentioning him.

"Could we…would we maybe not talk about it please?" Irene asked in a slightly broken voice, and Jessie nodded.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Irene shook her head. She hated it when people saw her defeated, but right now, even she couldn't pretend that the situation wasn't affecting her. And having Jessie here was comforting, at least a little bit.

Although Irene said nothing, Jessie guessed that it would help her friend if she didn't have to feel like she was alone, and so she pulled of her jumper, and climbed in the bed next to Irene. Irene seemed to tense briefly at the contact, and another tear made its way down her cheek. It was silly, she knew, but she couldn't help remembering how James had lain there, in her bed, his arms wrapped around her just like Jessie's were now. She wished she could stop herself from crying at every mention of James's name, at every touch, emotion and sensation she somehow associated with him, but she couldn't. The pain in her chest seemed to be pressing down on her, and her only escape was to simply shut down and sleep.

But right now she wasn't able to do that. Instead her shoulders started to shake, and she started to cry into Jessie's shoulder, while she Jessie attempted to soothe her and murmured words of comfort.

While she sobbed, Irene was oblivious to Sherlock coming back up the stairs, but Jessie turned around slightly at the noise, and gave a small smile as she watched Sherlock set two cups of tea down quietly near Irene's bed. He looked unhappy to see Irene in pain, but gave a small smile and wave to Jessie, before leaving.

He knew that while Irene had already let him see her at her worst yesterday, she probably wouldn't want him there while she broke down, and Jessie would probably be able to comfort her better than he ever could.

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Over the next few days, both Jessie and Sherlock visited Irene every day after school. Irene had a TV in her room, and when she didn't feel like talking, Jessie, armed with ice cream, cookies and mugs of hot chocolate, would crawl into Irene's bed with armfuls of blankets and they would watch cartoons and soap operas. Irene didn't like sitting in silence, since it gave her too much time to think, but every time a particularly romantic scene came on when they were watching TV, Jessie could see the pain in her eyes and knew that she was being reminded of some moment with James.

Sherlock came less often, and didn't stay long. He came mainly to check up on Irene, and sometimes sat with her for a while. Having Jessie there was a big comfort, but having Sherlock there was also very important and soothing for Irene. Sherlock never talked about James, instead he told her all about the observations he had made recently, describing every detail of their teachers' lives, from their eating habits to their relationships. Everything Sherlock said helped her focus more on how he had observed which detail, and sometimes she almost forgot about James.

When Sherlock ran out of observations to share, he occasionally told her a bit more about himself and his family life. Sherlock had never been the type to share things easily and openly, and Irene realised how uncharacteristic of him it was to tell her so much about himself. He talked about how he had once owned a dog as a child, but his parents had insisted it be put down after it had been injured by a car, how he was starting to dislike the person his brother was becoming: snobbish, secretive and disdainful and how he sometimes still wished that his parents would spend more time with him, although it no longer bothered him as much as it had when he had been younger.

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After a few days, Jessie carefully touched upon the subject of James again, and this time, Irene decided she wanted to talk about it. She had spent days both simultaneously wondering why he had cheated on her, and when it had all gone wrong and trying to do her best to avoid thinking about him. But after nearly a week of eating chocolates and watching cartoons in her bed, even she began to realise that maybe she should talk to Jessie about it.

"I still can't believe it happened." She told Jessie quietly. "I still think this is just a huge nightmare I'll wake up from."

"I wish it was." Jessie said. "What happened, exactly, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I don't know exactly when it started." Irene said, taking a deep breath. She had hoped that after a week the pain would subside, at least a bit, but now that she started relieving everything it felt like it was all happening all over again.

"He just…he started acting differently. He would be edgy, and anxious, and he stopped spending time with me. He kept up this lie that his parents had arranged tutors for him, and I was so stupid and believed it."

Jessie shook her head. "You weren't stupid" she assured her friend. "I think he fooled us all."

"I…I still don't understand. Why he did it." She started at a loose thread on her pillow for a while. "I thought he loved me, and I know it sounds silly, but I thought he would always be there, that I could spend the rest of my life with him."

This was probably the hardest part. Jessie knew that Irene was idealistic. She was aware that Irene wasn't happy about the way her parents treated each other, and that she didn't want to be like her parents. When Irene fell in love, it was forever and ever, and even though it was an unrealistic notion, it had been something she believed in.

Jessie had seen the way Irene behaved at the beginning with James. Everything had made her smile, she had been constantly happy, always at James's side, almost intoxicated by his presence. When James was around, there had never been another person in the room. It had always been the one extreme, with Irene almost deliriously happy, but now that the situation had changed, it had been enough to drive Irene into a depression. There had never been a middle ground.

"And when I saw him kissing- it…" Irene paused. "It's terrifying, thinking someone cared about you and that you were always going to be with him and love him, to have it ripped from you like that."

Jessie stayed silent.

"I still don't understand." Irene paused. "Something must have made him do it. I mean how can you just- " a sob escaped her throat. "If you care about someone, how can you just lie to them like that? And if he didn't care about me anymore, then why, why couldn't he just have told me?"

Jessie shook her head. "He's a coward, Irene." She said with a shrug. But Irene shook her head.

"I think he was scared. Maybe. But it scares me that maybe he was aware of what he was doing. I mean…he still invited me to dances and fancy parties. He didn't even care about me enough to end it. It just mattered to him that he had someone who looked good and who his parents liked."

A thought suddenly occurred to her, and it shocked her that she hadn't asked Jessie this before. "Have you seen him? Or talked to him?"

"I think he's avoiding me." Jessie admitted. "He knows that pretending everything was okay wouldn't work anymore. I've barely seen him all week. I didn't want to talk to him anyway. Just looking at his smile and thinking how he manipulated all of us makes me sick."

Irene nodded, and another thought hit her. "And Sherlock?"

Jessie looked confused. "What about him?"

"Has he…spoken to him?"

"Didn't he tell you?" Jessie asked, surprise colouring her tone. Irene's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Tell me what?"

Jessie looked uneasy. She thought Sherlock had told Irene that he had spoken with James. He had never told her exactly what had been said, since it didn't really concern her, but she had always assumed he had mentioned it to Irene.

"I think that on the first day I came over he talked to James foe a while." She said carefully. "He never said exactly what about, though I can guess."

Irene's eyes widened, and for a second, she felt betrayed. Sherlock wasn't supposed to keep things from her. But then she remembered that she had made it clear that she hadn't wanted to talk about any of it.

Jessie could tell from the expression on Irene's face that the conversation about James was over and decided that it was probably for the best. Irene would probably tell her everything when she was ready.

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**Thank you for reading. More to come soon!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Right, so if you've just noticed that there's been an update, this is the second chapter posted today. If you haven't read through chapter 19 yet, I recommend you do that first, so click through. :) **

**Anyway, just to quickly clear up any misunderstandings:**

**The way Sherlock's family life will be portrayed in this story will be very different to how it was portrayed in series 3. Sherlock's parents there were lovely, in this story…not so much.**

**This chapter may seem a little confusing. Usually I write in chronological order, but this chapter is a little different. The first part takes place about a week after the start of the last chapter (so a week after Irene discovered that James was cheating) but the second part is only three days after that. Sorry for the confusion, but switching the order to chronological sort of messed up the rhythm a bit for me. **

**Anyways, hope you enjoy :)**

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Sherlock visited Irene the next day. Jessie had gone up to him during recess, and had rather nervously told him that she had mentioned the fact that he had confronted James to Irene. To her surprise, Sherlock wasn't angry.

"I never mentioned it before I didn't think she wanted to talk about James" he said with a shrug. "Although I am not sure if she will be thrilled when I tell her what I said to him."

"What did you say to him?"

Sherlock shrugged again, this time with slight unease. "The usual things people would say in this situation, from what I've gathered." He said. "I asked him why he did it, and told him to stay away from her, unless she wants something different."

Jessie almost laughed at Sherlock's reply. Suddenly something she had never thought about occurred to her. Irene and James had always been a couple, even before it was official; it had been like that ever since she had known Irene. Sherlock had always been at the edge of the picture, slightly out of focus. He had been close with Irene, but not with anyone else. Jessie had never considered the possibility of Irene and Sherlock, but now it suddenly seemed like a good match. After all, it was Sherlock who had made her aware of the situation, who had been the first to comfort Irene and the only one to confront James. From the way he acted around Irene coupled with what he had said to James…

Jessie shook her head. She liked the idea, but she knew that Irene was in no place to date again right now. She wasn't even sure how long it would take Iren to heal from this, and until then, there was no use in speculating.

"How did James react?" Jessie asked, focusing again on the subject at hand."

Sherlock pursed his lips, considering what exactly he should tell her. He guessed he probably shouldn't tell Jessie unless Irene wanted her to know, but then again he couldn't see why Irene would want to keep it a secret from her friend.

"He's an utter bastard." Sherlock said. Even though Jessie knew it was certainly inappropriate given the situation, laughter bubbled up in her throat at Sherlock's blunt reply.

"We knew that already." Jessie said dryly, once her (inappropriate) mirth had subsided.

Sherlock nodded once. "Yes." He ran a hand through his dark curls. "He believed that by not telling her about the fact that he no longer cared for her, he was protecting her and sparing her feelings. "

Jessie snorted, and Sherlock gave her a small smile and a nod of approbation. "Utterly ludicrous, in my opinion."

Irene had reacted slightly differently from Jessie when Sherlock told her. She closed her eyes."So he meant well?" she asked, and Sherlock shook his head. He knew it would hurt her, but he felt like now, at least, it was important to be blunt.

"I don't think so. From what I've guessed, he didn't enjoy being confronted by me. Perhaps he believed that it was kind to lie to you at the beginning, but obviously it was the opposite of kind." He paused slightly, and glanced at Irene, relieved to see that while she certainly didn't look happy, she wasn't crying.

"There exists a psychological theory," Sherlock explained, and saw Irene raise her eyebrows at the sudden direction the conversation had taken, "called cognitive dissonance. It's essentially a way of lying to yourself, to portray your bad actions in a better light, both to yourself and others. I think this was what James was doing when he said that. He may say that the reason he lied to you was to spare your feelings, but he actively deceived you for his own gain."

Irene nodded. "What else did he say?" It hurt to hear Sherlock describing what James had done so bluntly, but Irene supposed she needed to hear it.

Sherlock took a deep breath. "He said he loved you at the beginning" he told her and saw her flinch slightly. "He maintained that he didn't want to hurt you, and that you were never supposed to see him with Maria." He rolled his eyes. "That was what he considered an excuse for his actions. And he said I should tell you from him that he is sorry for what he did."

He looked at Irene to gauge her reaction. She was staring at the floor, her feet tucked close to her chest, her arms holding them there, curled in on herself. He thought he saw a tear escape, but it could have been a trick of the light.

It took a few seconds for Irene to be able to look up at him. She nodded at him by way of thanks, not trusting herself to speak.

She was conflicted. Obviously what James had done was horrible, but at the same time… he said he had done it to spare her feelings. It was difficult to reconcile the two thoughts. Irene knew, deep down that Sherlock was probably right – James's own feeling had come first. After all, he had still used her, used her to show off at his parent's parties and dances and he had lied to her outright, pretending that absolutely everything was fine, never even hinting that his feelings had changed. But she wanted so desperately to believe that he had lied to her to protect her. As stupid as it sounded, it was the only hope Irene could cling to. Because the alternate option was that at some point, she had ceased to mean anything to him and even after everything that had happened, she wasn't sure if she could accept that.

A part of her still cared for him. And if she was honest it disgusted her, that even after he had hurt her so much, she was still trying to rationalise his actions into something good, no matter how small.

"Are you angry at me?" Sherlock asked after a few seconds, when Irene continued to stare at floor. His question seemed to startle Irene enough to stop her train of thought.

"Why would I be angry with _you_?"

Sherlock shrugged. "I didn't ask you before I confronted James. It wasn't really any of my business."

Irene shook her head. "I think I made it your business." She said in a small voice. "I'm sorry."

Now it was Sherlock's turn to be incredulous. "Sorry for _what_?"

Irene voiced a thought that had been nagging at her mind for the past few days, during the rare times when she hadn't been thinking about James.

"I'm sure you have better things to do." She said, not looking at him. "I mean, you don't have to be here all the time with me."

"Do you want me to leave?" Sherlock asked, almost surprised at how small his voice had suddenly gotten.

Irene looked surprised. "What? No! Of course not. It's just that…I mean, all I'm doing is sitting here, crying and watching bad soap operas. Not exactly stuff that anybody would want to deal with. This thing with James…I never meant to make you feel like you had to look after me."

"You think I'm here because I feel like it's my obligation to look after you?" Sherlock asked. A small part of him was hurt that Irene would think that, but he reminded himself that Irene had a tendency to blame and see faults in herself. Irene shrugged uncomfortably.

"Irene," Sherlock murmured, his cheeks going slightly red. "You're one of the smartest people I know. But I fear that your assumption is not only stupid but completely wrong. I'm here because I care about you, not because I feel obligated."

Irene looked up at him, and saw that despite the fact that he looked very slightly uncomfortable, he meant every word. Sherlock wasn't one to often express his true feelings, and Irene felt touched by what he had said. She gave him a small smile. "Thank you, she whispered, and put her arms around him. Sherlock, though he didn't display affection often, had got used to it in the last week, and hugged Irene back, resting his chin on her shoulder.

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Irene's mother was aware of her many failings as a parent. She had married a man who she had fallen desperately in love with, and had married him soon after. To this day she loved her husband more than anything, but saw, every day, how his affection for her had slowly but steadily diminished. After having Irene, she had hoped that the little girl would be a reason for her husband to spend more time with her, and for them to rekindle their romance. But it had served the opposite purpose. Her husband, though he cared for his daughter, had not wanted a child. And so Irene's mother, tired of striving continually for her husband's attention, had hired a nanny to take care of her daughter, playing a smaller and smaller part in Irene's life with every passing year. It wasn't until Irene turned 14 that she realised how much of her daughter's childhood she had missed and had tried to at least attempt to heal the damage. But by then her daughter, who had grown up so very fast, was living her own life.

Despite the fact that she saw how separated she and her daughter had become, over the past year, Irene's mother wished she could play a part in her daughter's life, but realised her daughter didn't want her interference. So she watched and was delighted that her daughter was happy- she had a boyfriend who she loved more than anything and who loved her back, as well as many friends to support her.

But ever since Irene had come home early a few days ago, supposedly sick, with Sherlock, Irene's mother had become very aware of the change in her daughter. Her instinct immediately told her that Irene was not sick, at least not in the way Sherlock had described. The next day, when both Sherlock and another friend of hers came to visit, and continued to visit each day after that, she knew that something bad must have been happened.

However, Irene had made it very clear that she wished to be alone, and while it upset her, Irene's mother had respected that wish. But after three days she could no longer bear to see her daughter so unhappy, and resolved to talk to her.

Irene was extremely surprised when she saw that her mother seemed to be taking an interest in what was going on, but had to admit that she had chosen the worst possible time. She didn't want to talk about James, nor did she want to pretend that the only thing wrong with her was a sore throat.

"Please leave me alone." Became her standard reply whenever her mother came to see her, and she couldn't find it in herself to care when she saw the hurt expression flicker across her mother's face. But on the third day, after asking to be left alone, she was surprised to see that her mother remained in her room.

"Mum. Please. I just want to sleep."

But her mother shook her head. "Darling…please. I can see that you're not well. What's wrong?"

Irene really didn't have the energy to pretend that she was okay right now. Pretending she was fine when she wasn't just made her want to cry more. "I told you, I feel sick. I just need to sleep it off."

Usually, Irene was a very good liar, when necessary, at least. But this time her claim wasn't the least bit convincing.

To her shock, her mother actually sat at the edge of her bed. "Irene. Please." She sighed.

Irene looked at her mother, and with a horrifying sense of unease she realised that her mother _knew_.

"It's James, isn't it?" her mother asked quietly, softly. "Darling, did he hurt you?"

It was the gentleness of her mother's tone, coupled with Irene's tiredness at pretending that everything was okay, not only for her mother's but also for her own benefit that finally pierced the shell that she had built around herself. She looked at her mother and suddenly tears started running down her cheeks and sobs wracked her body. The hurt, anger and pain she had been bottling up for the last three days suddenly exploded, and as paradoxical as it seemed in the situation, she suddenly craved nothing more than her mother's comfort.

Irene's mother immediately put an arm around her and held her close, stroking her hair comfortingly. "I'm so sorry." She whispered.

"He's been lying to me for months" Irene finally chocked out. "He told me he loved me, and the whole time he's been seeing someone else."

"I'm so sorry." Her mother repeated, and felt the horrible injustice that Irene had had to suffer the same thing she was currently suffering through.

"It's going to be alright, darling." She assured her daughter. "I know the pain feels like it's going to overwhelm you right now, but trust me, it will fade eventually. It will get better."

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**Thank you for reading! Please tell me what you thought. :) **


	21. Chapter 21

**Hello everyone, sorry to keep you all waiting like this with this story, but finally another chapter! Hope you enjoy! X**

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It took two weeks for the acute pain to lessen.

It took Irene three weeks to feel well enough to return back to school.

During the course of those three weeks, both Jessie and Sherlock continued to visit often, but both of them saw, with varying feelings of relief, that Irene was getting better. Although both of them were perfectly aware of the fact that it would take a much longer time for Irene to recover completely from everything, they were pleased to see changes in her behaviour that insinuated that it was getting a little easier for her. She started smiling again, and while she barely left the house, she started getting out of bed and eating properly again.

However, Jessie remained a lot more optimistic than Sherlock. "James is an idiot," she told Irene every time when she started to see the pain reappear in Irene's eyes and see the shadow pass over her face. "James is an idiot", and general variations of this phrase, substituting the word "idiot" for something more colourful became Jessie's standard saying when comforting Irene. Irene managed to force a weak smile at this occasionally, but felt that Jessie, even though she thought she was comforting her with the phrase, was just making it hurt more.

Paradoxically, Sherlock, who had never been the biggest expert in feelings, saw and understood what Irene was thinking much better than Jessie did. Jessie was certainly smart, but having been raised in a stable home, with two parents who doted on her, couldn't quite understand how deeply renewed betrayal and rejection hurt. Actually, Irene doubted that anyone who had ever been in love could understand just how much it hurt, but Sherlock seemed to get it, at least partially.

He rarely talked about James with her, certainly much less often than Jessie did, but when the topic came up, he seemed to understand that simply dismissing James's behaviour based on his stupidity wouldn't work. From what he had gauged from Irene's emotional reaction, he assumed that if she took so long to recover, her pain could not be healed with a repetition of James's apparent one dimensional personality.

He himself hadn't talked to James since he had confronted him about his behaviour nearly three weeks ago. He, more than anybody, knew that people were complex creatures, and it was easy to mistake one part of their personality for a whole. However, in James's case he wished he could forget this fact; it would be much easier to hate James if he accepted his behaviour to be his only and defining trait. Not that he didn't despise him anyway. But even he observed that since the break up, James had changed. He smiled less and became more subdued. Once he even made to come up to Sherlock, but the expression on Sherlock's face when he guessed what his intention was made him back away.

Irene's mother became a source of comfort to Irene. At first, Irene had felt rather tentative at attempting to start a renewed, more affectionate relationship with her mother, especially since she feared that she might let her down, just like James had done. However her mother's attention had stayed steadfast and she seemed to genuinely care about her welfare. Irene found it was a relief to have someone she could talk to besides Jessie and Sherlock, especially since her mother seemed to understand her feelings on a level which the other two couldn't. Irene wasn't blind to the reason for this, and it gave her pain. She began to see the strong parallels between her and James's relationship and that of her parents. The few weeks she had endured questioning James's behaviour had been bad enough, and she realised that her mother had probably been going through that for years. While it certainly wasn't enough for Irene to excuse and forgive her mother's behaviour over the past 14 years, Irene started to understand, better than she ever had before the reason for her mother's actions and was ready to accept the olive branch that her mother had offered.

While affection for her mother certainly increased, her feelings about her father certainly didn't. The way her parents had treated her as a child has certainly saddened her, but only now did Irene realise how determined she had been to ignore it, at least consciously. The rich, upper class environment she had been brought up in, the same environment Sherlock had been brought up in, seemed to suggest that a cold, distant relationships between parents and children seemed to be the norm, seemed to almost to be expected even, though perhaps not always strictly adhered to. Nevertheless, Irene did not prefer to use a stereotype of one social class to justify her father's behaviour, not anymore.

Even less did she now tolerate his behaviour towards her mother. Irene personally felt that she herself had been through hell in the past few weeks, although this was something she only allowed herself to think privately and never mentioned it. She had never thought that such a feeling of extreme grief, and somehow, at the same time, emptiness, could so completely overwhelm her. The hurt she had felt even before her relationship with James had ended had been enough, and only now did she really understand that her mother had been enduring the same pain for….how long? Years probably.

Irene knew she had made a huge error of judgement with James, and saw what detrimental effects it could have over a length of time. But despite this, although her idealistic view of the world and of her own idea of relationships had been shaken, it hadn't crumbled completely. She still wanted to believe that there was someone who she could find love with, and someone that would love her back just as she loved them.

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Every time Irene had thought of James, it had felt like there was some creature, some monster in her body, crawling its way up her throat. Every time this sensation had come over her she had done her best to clench her teeth and close her eyes, knowing if she broke down now, it would take an age before she could once again get up and somehow function. It took two three weeks for that feeling to lessen somewhat.

But the night before Irene had decided, mainly because of Jessie's persistent encouragement, to return to school, and it felt like any progress she thought she had made, every promise to herself that she could stay strong and beat this, crumbled, and Irene was left gasping, panicking at the thought of it all, tears streaming down her cheeks in quick succession, almost as if her body was trying to mock her.

She thought she had gotten a little better, but now her body seemed to be laughing at her, showing her that she was just as weak as she had been before.

She didn't think she could do this.

Until now, she and James had been the centre of attention. They had been the ones everyone talked about, the ones everybody wanted to be friends with, the ones every student had always smiled at.

And most importantly, they had always been together: a compact set, a package that came in no other shape or variety.

And now all that was over, and Irene knew that everyone was now aware of it. Everyone would stare at her, everyone would wonder what had happened, and what she had done.

The thought caused Irene to hyperventilate. She couldn't face it. She couldn't stand having all those people looking at her, whispering, wondering, laughing, mocking her.

She couldn't see James, couldn't see his friends, who had probably known all along, who had covered for him, who had probably laughed at her behind her back.

Trembling, once the panic attack had passed and she had managed to quell the tears, at least to some extent, she tiptoed down the stair, so that her mother wouldn't hear her, and picked up the phone.

Jessie answered on the second ring.

"It's Irene.", Irene whispered, not trusting her voice to exert itself beyond that capacity.

The whisper was enough. Jessie instantly heard the alarm in her best friend's voice.

"Are you okay?" Jessie shook her head to herself as soon as she posed the question. What a _stupid_ thing to ask.

Irene shook her head, and counted to five, desperately hoping her voice wouldn't quiver.

"I can't go to school tomorrow."

Jessie sighed slightly at the other end. Yes, she knew Irene was in pain. But this was so typical of her friend. She was so clever, so ready to help everyone, but she couldn't face up to her own problems. If she was honest, and Jessie felt like an absolute cow for thinking it, she was getting tired of this. She was Irene's friend, she would always be there for her, but the last two weeks had drained her as well. A problem shared is a problem halved, wasn't that the saying? Well, it wasn't true, or at least not for the person who had to listen to other people's problems. The only thing it did was make Irene's problems her problems too. A problem shared is a problem doubled.

Of course she couldn't tell Irene any of this, it would make her feel worse, and regardless of the situation, it was a horrible, horrible thing to think, much less act upon. So Jessie, looking at the clock and realising she might be here for a while, simply asked, "Why?"

Irene shook her head, one arm now instinctively curling around her stomach. "I can't do it." She repeated, but only heard silence. "I can't face those people, I can't face him."

"Irene, you're going to have to face up to it eventually. You can't keep delaying it."

"But maybe, if I don't come tomorrow, the might forget-"

At this point Jessie cut her off. "Irene. I'm sorry, but you can't change what happened. And the only way you can make any shred of difference, is to go to school, and face up to it. I know you're scared of everyone's reactions, but you have to show them that you are okay and you've moved on. As soon as they realise how strong you are, how you've managed to move on, they'll get what a total loser James is, and they will respect you for it. Okay?"

Irene choked down a sob. Didn't Jessie get it? She wasn't strong; she hadn't managed to move on at all. God, she started hyperventilating and crying every time she pictured James's face.

"Irene?" Jessie asked, now in a slightly softer tone. "Please try. For me?" A sudden thought hit her. "And if not for me, at least for Sherlock. Look, he cares about you, and I bet he really misses you."

Irene nodded. "Will you sit with me at lunch tomorrow?"

Jessie bit her lip. Crap. She hadn't realised, and she should have, but…Irene was really, truly terrified. Right now, she sounded like a scared child, dwarfed and frightened by the huge, cruel world around her.

"Of course. Irene. Seriously…. don't worry – ok? Everything will be fine."

Irene nodded, said goodbye and hung up, wishing she could believe her friend.

Her last thought, before she drifted off into a numb heavy sleep, was that Sherlock would be there for her in the morning, and since she couldn't do it, he would shield her from everyone else.

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"Sweetheart, you'll be fine." Irene's mother told her for the fifth time, giving her daughter a reassuring smile. Irene, who sat hunched over at the table, staring into her cup of tea as if it could solve all her problems, barely registered her.

"Jessie will be here soon." She continued, but saw no visible reaction from her daughter, other than a slight tightening of her fingers around her tea cup.

"And Sherlock is coming too, isn't he?"

This seemed to rouse Irene a little, and her mother worked to conceal a slight smile.

"I hope so." Irene whispered, and flinched when she heard the huge grandfather clock in the corner of the room strike 7 'o' clock.

"I don't want to do this." Irene murmured, more to herself that to her mother, but the latter still heard her.

"I know, darling. But trust me, eventually you learn to live with things. I can't lie to you, I am sure that today is going to be incredibly difficult, but every day after that, it will get easier, step by step. It's amazing, I find, how quickly people can get used to things, no matter how horrible or devastating."

Irene stared at her mother, wondering if this talk was only about her, or if there was something else her mother was trying to say. But she was too tired, and too wrapped up in her own fear at the moment.

"They should be here soon." She heard her mother say, and watched her walk out of the kitchen and into the living room, no doubt to glance out of one of the big windows that overlooked the lawn and the front gate.

Irene bit her lip, took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. She wished she could be rational about this, like Jessie was. Jessie would take her hand, go through each problem with her, each thing that scared her, and tell her that she was over thinking things. It was one of the reasons Irene had called her last night, she had desperately hoped Jessie could somehow comfort her or manage to dismiss her fears, however temporarily. But Jessie had sounded tired, almost annoyed, yesterday, and that had only made Irene feel worse.

She couldn't seem to break out of this fog that surrounded her, the numbness and the emptiness. When she did resurface, the pain almost knocked her over. And that was only at home. How was she supposed to get through a whole day having to face others?

"They're here!" Irene's mother called, piercing through Irene's thought process. Jessie's bright, happy laugh immediately filled the room, probably at something Irene's mother had said, and her smile was infectious. Even Irene felt the corners of her mouth curling up slightly. Sherlock walked behind Jessie, looking deep in thought, even a little nervous, but upon seeing Irene he immediately gave her a smile, which, although it wasn't as wide as Jessie's, evoked much more feeling in Irene. Jessie smiled at everyone, her smile was practically one of her permanent features. Sherlock's smile….Irene knew that smile was only meant for her.

"Are you ready?" he murmured quietly to her, while Jessie said something to her mother. Irene bit her lip and nodded.

Sherlock knew that she was lying, he could see she was terrified. Impulsively, without even thinking about it, without even considering his actions, he took her hand and squeezed it, giving his best friend a small smile, his blue grey eyes telling her that he knew how she felt, and wasn't going to try and convince her that everything would be fine, like Jessie had tried to do.

Paradoxically, the fact that Sherlock was essentially of the opinion that today wouldn't be easy, and that Irene would find it hard, calmed Irene down. Maybe it wasn't all in her head.

Jessie turned around, her mouth already open to ask whether Irene was ready to go, when she noticed her friends' interlocked hands.

She briefly considered whether to ignore it, or give them a moment alone, but the second Sherlock became aware that Jessie was watching them; he dropped Irene's hand, cursing himself, knowing exactly what Jessie was reading into this gesture, and knowing that she was wrong.

He did care for Irene, but…no, not like that. And besides, even if he did (which he most certainly…didn't?), she was clearly still upset and in no way over James.

He ground his teeth together in frustration when he saw Jessie's slight smirk, but luckily Irene didn't seem to notice. She picked up her school bag, hugged her mother, and taking a deep breath, walked out the door. Jessie smiled and followed her best friend, but not before giving Sherlock a suggestive grin. Sherlock sighed, said goodbye to Irene's mother, who was watching her daughter with a proud, yet inexplicably sad smile, and followed the other two outside.

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**Awww, aren't they cute? I think Sherlock's pretty confused about his feelings at the moment, but I can promise you that he will eventually come to his senses. **

**Thank you very much for reading and please leave a review! Xx **


	22. Chapter 22

**Wow. A chapter only a few weeks after the last one? Practically a record, for me. ;)**

**Anyways, hello, everybody. I'm warning you, this chapter here is fairly short, but rather vital. A few more similar chapters on Irene's feelings, and the finally, we can start getting to the Adlock. **

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Irene felt her heart beating faster and faster as the three approached the school. Jessie was talking about all the things she had missed, clearly trying to distract Irene from her thoughts. Normally, Irene would probably have been grateful, but today she just longed for a closer form of comfort. She wished Sherlock would take her hand again, that way she could have some sort of life line to hold on to. But Sherlock was walking behind her and Jessie and remained quiet.

They reached the school gate in what seemed to Irene to be no time at all, and before she knew it, Jessie was hugging her and telling her that she would be fine. Sherlock looked at Irene, knowing Jessie was watching him carefully, and contemplating whether to hug his friend, knowing it would probably add at least 3 minutes more to the conversation Jessie would presumably want to have with him. But as he looked at Irene in front of him, scared and unhappy, every thought on what Jessie would think went out the window and he pulled Irene into a huge bear hug. "You'll be ok." He whispered in her ear. "I'll see you in less than two hours, alright?"

Irene nodded, and forced a smile for her two friends. "You'll be fine." Jessie said, sounding totally convinced of the fact. "Stop worrying, ok?"

Irene watched as Jessie left to go to her own class, and saw the almost… well, suggestive smile she gave Sherlock. Irene wondered what that meant. Was she merely saying goodbye, or was there…something else? She had no idea of where the thought had come from, how such a thought could even be formed, but suddenly she found wondering whether, in the time the two had spent together, Jessie might have developed feelings for Sherlock? And maybe even Sherlock for Jessie? She took a deep breath, surprised at the feeling building in her chest – she didn't want those two to become a couple. What would she do then?

She took another deep breath, willing herself to stay rational. She didn't need another thing to worry about. Instead she glanced at Sherlock, who was still standing in front of her, doing his best to mask his agitated expression at Jessie's actions. He focused on Irene, who looked worried as she watched Jessie walk away.

Sherlock gave her a smile, and watched Irene weakly return it. "See you soon." She said in a small voice. Sherlock looked like he wanted to say something else for a second, but then simply nodded, wished her good luck and left to go to his maths class.

Irene was left alone.

She took a deep breath and started walking towards her own classroom. She wished she could just disappear, but instead tried to do what Jessie had told her to on the way, stand up tall and proud. She saw with relief that barely anyone stared at her or whispered, and a sudden hope that maybe this wouldn't be so horrible began to grow within her. That hope subsided as soon as she reached her classroom and sat down. Immediately a silence swept over the room, and a group of girls in the back of the room started whispering to each other hurriedly. Irene could see Alice standing among them, her expression changing between feigning sympathy and delight.

Irene sat down, closed her eyes and desperately hoped she wouldn't cry. Instead, she took out her maths book, and did her best to concentrate on a random page until class officially started.

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One and a half hours later she slid into her seat in biology, immensely relieved to be in a class full of people who weren't in her actual year and who wouldn't waste their time on her personal life. Sherlock arrived two minutes later and Irene immediately felt a lot calmer when she saw him.

AS soon as he sat down, she immediately leaned her head on his shoulder, grateful for the comfort. Truthfully she wanted to go home, but knew Jessie would never let her.

She didn't feel Sherlock's heart skip a beat.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his cheeks slightly redder than usual, although thankfully Irene didn't notice.

"Not really." Irene whispered, and knowing that he was probably raising his eyebrows in response to her statement, she quietly added, "Alice seems happy."

Sherlock sighed. Of course. He should have known that Alice would be thrilled with this development, and would make sure that Irene was as miserable as possible.

Irene sat up straight as soon as class started and said nothing for the rest of the lesson.

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The rest of the day felt like a blur to Irene, loads of images, experiences, emotions and sensations all mixed in together, with moment of occasional sharp pain and feeling mixed in.

Every time she saw someone she knew, it felt like someone had thrown her to the ground hard, as if the wind had been knocked out of her, but without the aftershock to soothe the sensation. Instead she was left rooted to the spot, trying not to hyperventilate.

No matter how many people she saw, she knew that every feeling she had experienced until this point couldn't parallel the pain she would feel when she saw James. She kept trying to prepare herself for the moment, so that her inner turmoil wouldn't be displayed for everyone to see, but all she managed to achieve was to increase her fear. James was constantly at the back of her mind.

Right before lunch, Jessie came for her, taking Irene by the elbow, and leading her through the busy cafeteria, knowing that this was the moment Irene dreaded the most. Irene allowed herself to be led by her friend and kept her eyes to the ground.

Jessie's step stopped suddenly, and Irene looked up, confused. "There's Sherlock!" Jessie said breathlessly, and started dragging her to a table. Irene smiled as soon as she saw Sherlock, who was staring intently at her, his curly black hair a mess, strands falling into his eyes. It had only been a few hours since she had seen him in biology, but it felt like a lifetime, and Irene suddenly felt better. She walked towards him, suddenly leading Jessie.

The latter exhaled in relief, and watched Irene walk over to Sherlock. She remained standing a second longer, and stared directly at the person who had made her stop so abruptly.

James was standing at the other side of the cafeteria, watching Irene with a nervous look on his face. Jessie narrowed her eyes as soon as James's glance shifted to her, and gave a minute but precise shake of her head. The warning was clear: _stay away_.

James looked down and walked away, over to his own table and sat down next to his friends, his face blank and drawn.

Jessie smiled in grim satisfaction, grateful Irene hadn't seen him, and followed her friend to their table.

She knew Irene would spot him eventually and hopefully sooner than later, so that she could finally work on moving on. But she knew that Irene had been dreading this moment, and trying to stop Irene from panicking in the middle of the cafeteria in front of every student in the school would not have been preferable. Instead she was now sitting down and had Sherlock next to her.

She surveyed the two. Irene had a small smile playing around the corners of her mouth, and Sherlock was looking at her intently, explaining something. Jessie smiled. Maybe it was too soon, but….

Well.

Sherlock better get his act together.

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Irene didn't see James until right before lunch ended. She was only looking at the large clock in the cafeteria, wishing that lunch would continue a little longer, when somehow, it felt as if her eyes were practically being dragged to him, and it caused her breath to escape her throat. Sherlock had been telling her about some sort of swimming event some people were going to at another school, and she had been listening, but the second she saw James's face Sherlock's voice disappeared. The only thing she could see was James. He drowned out everything around him, and for a second, everything ceased to exist, except him and her. Irene couldn't tear her eyes away.

Sherlock hadn't been concentrating on Irene for only a moment, and the second he looked up he saw what had happened. Really, the expression on Irene's face was enough. Sherlock realised just how much she had been hiding from them: he had never seen such raw pain in anybody's expression before. It made him sick to see her like this, and he made to touch her shoulder, before Jessie pulled his hand away.

"Leave them."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

"She has to do this on her own." Jessie insisted in a hurried whisper, keeping her hand on Sherlock's, whose skin had gone pale, with anger, she presumed.

Sherlock sighed, but his posture didn't relax.

Irene meanwhile felt like now, and only now, was the world really zooming into sharp focus, and that everything she had felt until no was trivial, compared to the feelings currently overwhelming her, crashing onto her like waves of a tsunami.

James started back at her, and his expression was nervous and almost remorseful.

Almost.

Finally, he tore his eyes away and left the cafeteria.

The second Sherlock saw James leave he turned around to comfort Irene, but Jessie tightened her grip on his hand, shaking her head.

"Give her a second." she mouthed.

Irene stared at the spot where James had been standing for a few seconds longer, before tearing her eyes away and turning back to her own table, only to find Sherlock and Jessie holding hands. The second they saw her looking, they let go, and Irene felt a stab of fear and pain.

It was so selfish of her, so incredibly selfish, but she didn't want this. Had she been right this morning, about Jessie and Sherlock? Their joined hands almost seemed to confirm it.

"You okay?" Jessie asked, but wrapped Irene in a hug before she even had time to respond.

"I'm glad it's over." Irene whispered. Jessie kissed her cheek.

"It'll be easier from now on." She assured her.

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As soon as school was over, Sherlock and Irene walked home together, but Jessie hung back. She had two reasons.

Maybe her thoughts were premature, but in her opinion Irene and Sherlock needed some time alone. She didn't want to interfere. It was too soon, she knew, but in the past few days she had decided that those two…well they fit. Sherlock was very different from James, and that was a very good thing. While Jessie had never believed that James was one to go behind Irene's back and lie to her, and she was still horrified by her error in judgement, she was certain that Sherlock would never hurt Irene. Simply the way he looked at her made that obvious.

The other reason she had hung back was currently walking through the school gate. Jessie watched as James and his friend group neared her. James looked deep in thought, and barely responded to his friends' joking conversation. Jessie cleared her throat as they passed her and James turned around in surprise.

"Jessie."

"I need to talk to you."

James nodded at his friends. "I'll see you guys later."

Jessie watched until James's friends were a safe distance away, before looking James over. He looked nervous and fidgety, but at the same time resigned. Before she had time to say anything, he asked: "how is she?"

Jessie said nothing. She didn't want him to know just how badly Irene was handling this, although he knew her, so she assumed that he would probably have guessed Irene's reaction.

James sighed when he saw that he would not get an answer. "What exactly do you want, Jessie?"

"I want you to leave her alone."

"I'm sorry, did I do something today?" James asked, confusing prominent in his tone. Jessie ignored the trace of anger she heard in his voice.

"No. But I am warning you, stay away from her. Don't try to approach her, don't try to talk to her, don't _do_ anything. If she wants to talk, she'll come to you. Until she does, leave her alone."

James sighed. "I know I've hurt her, and I feel terrible," he said heavily, and the sincerity in his voice surprised Jessie, though it wasn't incentive enough for her to act more civilly.

"But I don't plan on hurting her anymore, so you don't have to worry about me bothering her. Besides, Sherlock already said all of this."

Jessie nodded. "I know. I'm just here to remind you."

James nodded. "Tell her….if she wants to talk, in person, then of course she can. I….I never apologised to her, and I really do feel terrible." With that James nodded at her, and left, nodding goodbye to Jessie.

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**Hmm, so Jessie and Sherlock huh? **

**Thank you very much for reading, and please leave a review! **

**Laura x **


	23. Chapter 23

**Hello again, I hope you all had a lovely Christmas! Please accept this chapter as a late Christmas present. **

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Both Jessie and Sherlock had been uncertain how long it would take Irene to get back to normal again. She had missed over half a month of school, had lost most of her old friends, and while she had seen James, it hadn't helped her move on as much as the two had hoped it would. She was still sad and Jessie was wondering whether or not she had been right in telling James to stay away. After all, Sherlock had told him the same, and at the time it had been necessary, but now she realised that maybe it had been an error of judgement on her part. Irene didn't like confrontation. And even though Irene was one of the most determined people she knew, it was obvious to her that Irene's self esteem had suffered extremely.

No, after the first week it was obvious that Irene was too scared to go and talk to James. A week ago, Jessie would have encouraged her to stay away from him. More and more however, she saw that Irene needed some sort of closure to the whole affair and she wouldn't be getting it if she stayed withdrawn.

She explained her thoughts to Sherlock while they stood outside of Irene's house, waiting for her to appear so they could get to school.

Sherlock didn't seem to feel to be too happy about James approaching Irene, which surprised Jessie. Through the last month, he had always been the one to see sense and reason, but at the mention of James' name his expression became closed.

"All I'm saying," Jessie repeated for the third time, trying to get Sherlock to see her point, "is that she needs to find out why he did it to be able to move on."

Sherlock sighed irritably. "I heard you the first two times."

"You heard, but clearly you didn't understand" said Jessie, also with a trace of irritation in her tone. "It's like that…mantra you have."

Sherlock looked at her quizzically.

"You see, but you do not observe." Jessie said triumphantly after a few seconds recollection. "You hear, but you do not understand. I think Irene needs to, maybe even _wants_ to talk to him, but she won't take the first step. And before I thought it would be better if she did, but now, I am not so sure anymore."

"You think that James can make her feel better?" Sherlock said, sarcasm colouring his tone. Jessie rolled her eyes at his disdain.

"I suppose that depends on how you define better, but-"

"I believe the Oxford English Dictionary offers a perfectly satisfactory explanation-"

"You know what I mean, Sherlock."

Sherlock sighed. He didn't want Irene talking to James, but he also didn't want to control her. Jessie might have a point, a teeny tiny one, but he was hesitant. Not that it mattered, he thought bitterly. Jessie was so strong willed, he imagined that she had only consulted him on this because she expected to hear her opinion mirrored back at her. No matter what he said, she would probably end up encouraging James to talk to Irene anyway.

A suspicion for Sherlock's ridiculous defiance suddenly appeared in Jessie's head and she couldn't help but grin.

"I don't think Irene still has very strong feelings for James, if that's what you are worried about." Jessie said, doing her best to hide her sudden smile. Sherlock widened his eyes at her in shock, before composing his features into a perfectly neutral and totally unconvincing expression.

"I'm sorry?"

Jessie grinned, and watched Sherlock's eyes narrow slightly.

"If that's the reason you don't want her to talk to James- I don't think you have to worry. I know she still has some feelings for him, otherwise this…depressive state she has been in wouldn't have lasted for so long, but, personally, I don't think that the one conversation will reignite passion and love for him in her."

"I still don't get your point." Sherlock said, but his flaming cheeks indicated he understood exactly what she was saying.

"You realise the only reason I want James to talk to her is that she can finally move on? Don't you want her to move on, Sherlock?"

"Well, yes, obviously, but-"

Jessie grinned triumphantly.

"Jessie-" Sherlock said, now slightly frantically, since he had just seen the door to Irene's house open, "she just got out of a bad relationship. I know what you're insinuating, but seriously you have to stop-"

Jessie grinned at the spectacular shade of red that now adorned Sherlock's entire visage. He might want to stick to cold reasoning, but he couldn't control his body's involuntary reactions, and they completely gave him away. Enjoying how easy it was to see through Sherlock's façade, she couldn't resist teasing him, just a little. Spying Irene making her way down the drive way to them, she leaned in and whispered in Sherlock's ear, "Stop pretending." And then a little more loudly, seeing the trace of sudden panic in his eyes, "I'm right and you know it."

She raised her eyebrows and gave Sherlock a wide grin Sherlock looked shocked, angry and embarrassed at the same time, and Jessie idly wondered whether his cheeks could get any redder. He turned away from her and looked at Irene who had now reached them. Jessie's grin widened, apparently Sherlock's cheeks could get redder. She couldn't keep her smile in check, now that she had confirmation of Sherlock's feelings for Irene- it was more obvious than if he had told her.

Irene didn't miss Jessie's wide smile or Sherlock's blush. She did her best to return Jessie's smile, and luckily Jessie was too distracted with her own thoughts to see the strained expression behind it. Sherlock tried to smile, but kept his gaze fixed on the ground. He couldn't look at Irene now.

Both Jessie and Sherlock were lost in their own thoughts (or rather in a very specific thought) and neither of them noticed how desperately Irene was trying to cover up her sad expression. For the first time this morning she had woken up feeling almost cheerful, without some sense of foreboding or sadness, and she had hoped that maybe, today could be a day where she could bask in that emotion.

She hadn't felt as cheerful as she had this morning since before the break up, and it had taken her a while to identify the feeling, it had felt so foreign to her. The second she had opened her house door, and seen Jessie and Sherlock standing so close together, Jessie completely intruding on Sherlock's personal space, her eyebrows raised, her wide smile, lips millimetres from Sherlock's ear while Sherlock had blushed furiously, her good mood had gone (figuratively) straight out the window. Something dropped in her stomach. She hadn't heard anything Jessie had said to Sherlock (and maybe it was better, given how much Sherlock was blushing) but she doubted that anything Jessie had said could have convinced her that those two were not somehow involved. Over the last week she had seen Jessie hold Sherlock's hand in the cafeteria, seen intense and meaningful looks pass between them, seen how many saucy smiles and winks Jessie threw Sherlock and now…this. All that was left was seeing them kiss, and that terrified her. She didn't want this. She had no other friends, not true friends anyway.

She hadn't ever really noticed how much she had alienated people when she had been with James; her feelings for him had obscured everything else. Why should she spend time with other people when she could be spending it with him? Only in hindsight did she see what was wrong with that mentality, but she knew it played a part in almost all relationships. And she couldn't stand it if the same happened with Jessie and Sherlock. If they became wrapped up in each other, they wouldn't want her around anymore. And even if they did, she didn't think she could be truly happy for them, and surely they would realise that? No one wanted someone around them who was constantly moping around and sad.

These thoughts kept Irene occupied for a long time, and she barely spoke all day.

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Obviously both Sherlock and Jessie noticed something was up, but they decided that Irene must be getting tired of their constant "how are you?" and "are you ok?" so they didn't interfere. Jessie only raised her eyebrows and nodded in Irene's direction, so that Sherlock would see how imperative it was that Irene and James finally talk. Sherlock frowned and shook his head stubbornly. Irene noticed the exchange and wondered whether Jessie was finally contemplating telling her the news. Obviously Sherlock didn't want her to know, and somehow, that hurt her even more. They were friends, weren't they, _good_ friends? Why did he insist on keeping this secret from her?

The walk back from school was overwhelmingly quiet, which didn't surprise Jessie, she guessed Sherlock was still embarrassed. She resolved to stop teasing him, clearly her comments were weighing on his mind more than she had realised. But when Sherlock waved goodbye and Irene stayed silent, Jessie grew alarmed.

It was a mean thing to think, but one of Irene's habits when she was very upset was to lie and smile and pretend to be okay. It was nerve wracking when Irene refused to tell them that something was wrong, but at the same time sort of reassuring. Every time, Irene had given Jessie an out- if Irene said she was fine, Jessie could accept it and leave it at that. It was a mean thing to do, but sometimes Jessie just couldn't keep going with her constant enquiries.

Now however, Jessie knew that something was very wrong. Irene wasn't even pretending to be ok, and that was one of her defining characteristics. If a time had come to plainly tell Irene she needed to speak to James, so that this horrible sadness that had descended upon her friend could stop, it was now.

"Can I come over?" she asked quietly. Speaking at a normal volume seemed wrong somehow.

Irene jumped slightly at the sound of Jessie's voice but nodded.

"I need to talk to you about something."

Irene nodded, she couldn't bring herself to speak. 'It's coming' she thought to herself. She almost changed her mind, she wanted to tell Jessie she couldn't come over after all, because she didn't want to hear Jessie say the words: "_Sherlock and I are together_."

She had confirmation after all; she didn't need to hear the words spoken aloud. The words would make it final, irreversible. Irene couldn't face that.

Jessie was now seriously alarmed at Irene's lack of response, but decided to stay quiet until they reached Irene's house.

Once the two of them were sitting in Irene's room, with mugs of hot chocolate Irene's mum had personally made for them, Jessie opened her mouth. Her hot chocolate mug was nearly empty, Irene's was untouched.

"I need to talk to you." She said, and her voice sounded unusually grave. "Sherlock doesn't really want me to tell you, but he is being ridiculous."

Irene nodded. "I already know." She whispered and then cleared her throat. She couldn't let Jessie see what her real feelings on this were. She had been a rubbish friend in the last month; the least she could do now was to pretend to be happy for Jessie.

Jessie's eyes widened. "You do?"

Irene nodded, attempting to substitute her dejected look with a smile.

"I'm sorry. You probably shouldn't have found out this way." Jessie said glumly. "I know it's hard for you, but I think it's really important."

Irene nodded again.

"I mean," continued Jessie, "at the beginning I was against it, you know – it seemed like a bad idea. But now, I think it's the right thing to do. I know it's hard for you, but you have to face up to the situation."

Irene shrugged, forcing a smile on her face. "I was surprised," she admitted," but if you and Sherlock are sure about it, then…I suppose I should congratulate you."

Jessie who had been nodding encouragingly suddenly frowned at the unexpected turn the conversation had taken. "What? I mean thanks, but…why?"

"Well, I mean it's a big deal, and just because it didn't work out for me, doesn't mean it won't work for you. I'm glad you're happy together."

It took Jessie a moment to comprehend what Irene was saying. "I'm sorry, Irene, I…I don't quite understand."

Irene closed her eyes. Tears were threatening to fall. Was Jessie really going to make her say it?

Apparently she was.

Fighting the urge to cry, Irene took a deep breath.

"You and Sherlock. I get that you didn't want to tell me, and I understand how considerate you were being, but I am happy for you. You'll make a great couple."

Jessie's eyes widened as she tried to rationalise what Irene was saying.

"Me and Sherlock?" she sputtered. How the hell had Irene managed to even entertain a thought like that? Sure, she and Sherlock were friends, but wasn't it obvious to Irene how much Sherlock cared about her? For heaven's sake, the way he looked at her spoke volumes about how much he felt for her. How could Irene even think that he and Jessie-?

Irene couldn't take it anymore. Why was Jessie drawing it out like this? Before Irene hadn't wanted to hear her say it, but now a simple "yes" would suffice to get it over with. A tear managed to spill over and before she knew it, tears were pouring down.

Jessie stared at Irene in utter bewilderment for a moment, and then immediately went to hug her.

"Irene…" she was at loss for words. "I don't understand, what's wrong?"

That just made Irene cry more.

"I'm really sorry." she said finally. "I want to be happy for you, I really, really do, and I know I am a rubbish friend for being so selfish, but I just- I had no one but you and Sherlock but now that you two are together, I just feel so alone and-"

"Oh my god." whispered Jessie, mostly to herself. She still couldn't understand how Irene had reached such a conclusion but she now understood why she had been so unhappy and wanted to kick herself for not realising or at least asking.

"I know." Irene whispered. "I know, I'm being such a bitch about this and I get that you are angry but-"

"Irene." Jessie interrupted loudly. Irene looked at her, her eyes bright with tears.

"Sherlock and I are. Not. Together." Jessie said clearly, spelling it out for her. Irene stared at her in shock.

"What?"

Jessie shook her head in slight disbelief. "How did you even come up with…with such an idea?"

Irene shook her head, now also bewildered. "Well, the looks you keep giving each other. On Monday in the cafeteria you were holding hands. Today when I came outside you were whispering to him and smiling like that and he was blushing and I just thought…"

"Oh my god." Jessie said again, but now she was laughing. She did realise how her actions must have looked to Irene but still….just the thought of it was so ludicrous somehow.

"Right." She said. "We weren't holding hands. At that moment…well, you had just seen James and Irene I'm sorry, but the pain on your face… I think Sherlock couldn't stand it, seeing you like that and wanted either to distract you or go to James and punch him or something and to keep him there in his seat I took his hand." She took a breath. "The looks we keep sending each other…we're worried about you. That's all they mean, nothing else."

Irene breathed out a long breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. But something was still nagging her. "And this morning?"

Now it was Jessie's turn to blush slightly. She bit her lip. Should she tell Irene?

"We were arguing. What I originally wanted to tell you was that I think you should go and talk to James"- she raised a hand when she saw Irene open her mouth to object-"because I think, and this is just my opinion, that it would be easier for you to get over everything if he explained his side of the story. I know you don't want to talk to him though, which is understandable, but both Sherlock and I, in the course of the last month, told James numerous times to back off and leave you alone. I was telling Sherlock that maybe that was wrong, because you won't approach him and he won't approach you, but the two of you need to talk."

She took a deep breath. Irene was staring at her with an utterly stunned expression on her face. "But why were you whispering and why was he blushing?"

Damn. Jessie hoped Irene would forget that bit. She wondered how to word this. Sherlock hadn't told Irene he liked her, and Jessie knew it was not her position to say so. And apparently Irene had had no clue.

"I was whispering," she started carefully, "because you were already coming down the path and I didn't want you to hear. Sorry about that." She sighed. "Then I said something…insensitive to him- which made him blush." Knowing how feeble the explanation sounded, she carried on, "It was a personal thing and-I mean a private thing, and it embarrassed him. I'm sorry I can't tell you what, but…I can promise you that we aren't together. I don't think the thought ever even crossed our minds."

Irene stayed quiet for a while, trying to comprehend what Jessie was saying. All her fears and worries- well, they seemed so foolish and unfounded now.

"You're not together?" she repeated and when Jessie shook her head, Irene burst into a smile.

"I'm so relieved." she whispered, and Jessie laughed. Still she wondered, should she tell her? Plainly Irene didn't understand how Sherlock felt about her. She didn't see how her friend could be blind to that, but then she supposed, even Sherlock (now that she came to think of it) might not yet be aware just how much he felt for Irene and how obvious it had become.

She sighed. Sherlock might not be admitting his feelings to anyone, not even to himself just yet, so she shouldn't tell Irene. It was probably better until Irene moved on anyway.

"Irene" she said quietly. "What I said before- I know it's hard, but I really do think it's necessary that you and James talk."

Irene nodded. The prospect terrified her, but considering what she had though this conversation would be about, the idea of talking to James suddenly didn't seem as bad.

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**Thanks for reading! Next chapter will include a conversation between Irene and James, so that James can explain his side of the story, and I think after that, slowly but surely, Irene can move on…and maybe even be in a new relationship with a certain someone? *wink, wink***

**Anyway, I saw that there are a lot of people reading this story, but very few people reviewing. Please review guys, I love seeing your comments on this story and I would love to know if there are any things you don't like or don't agree with. **

**Thank you! **

**Laura x**


	24. Chapter 24

**It's sort of ridiculous, I know, how long it takes me to update. I didn't really realise until I saw that I started this story years ago. Wow. **

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Irene watched James as he walked in her house. It was such a strange feeling. He had partially been living in this house for the last year and a half, he was familiar with it and if she was completely honest, the loss of his presence in her house at the beginning had felt unnatural. But at the same time it was like watching a stranger walk through the door. This was not the person she thought she had known, this was a person who thought and acted in a way she would never have thought capable of him.

She took several deep breaths, determined to be as composed as possible during this conversation. Part of her wanted to postpone this forever, but the bigger and surprisingly at present more reasonable part of her knew she needed to hear his reasoning directly from him. Sherlock had already told her what James had said, but it wasn't enough. She needed to understand, and she needed to hear it from him.

James looked uncomfortable and Irene inwardly smiled at his discomfort. A part of her still doubted herself- it took two to damage a relationship after all, but a change had taken place within her. She understood, although maybe only subconsciously, that James was to blame, not her. She didn't know exactly when this integral realisation had taken place, but it was vital now.

She gave James a long hard look and then gestured to one of the chairs. Pain was still visible in her eyes, but her mouth was pressed into a thin line. "Sit" she told him, and James started at the anger he heard in her voice, before pulling out a chair and almost collapsing into it.

He had never seen Irene like this. Something had changed. She seemed furious, and James knew that her feelings were perfectly valid. That she should display them so openly however, surprised him. Irene, he had learned, preferred and was very skilled at hiding her feelings behind a mask, if she felt it was necessary. From Jessie's and Sherlock's accounts, as well as from what Alice had told him at school, he had expected her to be dejected, frail and unhappy. He could see the pain shining in her eyes, could almost feel her betrayal, but although those emotions were certainly prevalent, they weren't defining. Her anger, her fury were on display much more than her unhappiness was, and he marvelled at how much she had somehow changed.

Irene was determined, that was certainly true, but he had never expected this.

She sat down opposite, stared at the tablecloth for a second, before taking a deep breath and looking straight into his eyes. Somehow her direct form of confrontation, though not yet verbal, made James catch his breath. The difference was so small, but somehow so essential. He briefly pondered how detrimental his actions were, he felt butterflies in his stomach.

"I need you to explain, James." She said, and while her gaze remained angry, he heard the hurt in her voice. Part of him relaxed slightly; Irene certainly had every right to feel angry, but hearing the note of uncertainty somehow restored his confidence that this was not a foreign person he was talking to, but still the Irene he had loved.

Irene was the same in essentials, which made her responses predictable, and that would make it easier for both of them

"I've gone through everything" she continued, "and at the beginning I blamed myself."

James said nothing.

"But it can't just have been me." She said, some of the anger returning to cover the uncertainty in her voice. "It takes two. If it was something I had done, I asked, and you never said anything was wrong. So." She stared at him, and the hurt returned to her voice, in a way he hadn't heard it before. "Please_. Explain. Why. You. Did. This._"

James sighed slightly, and it took a lot of self control for Irene to not scream at him. He had stayed silent, allowing her to talk, and while she could see traces of remorse in his face, small aspects of behaviour showed her that while he felt at fault, he certainly didn't seem to regret it. His sigh made her shake with hurt and anger: maybe she was being dramatic, but it almost felt like he was insinuating that she was being overly emotional and he was the victim.

After a silence James finally spoke. "Firstly, I should say- I am really sorry I hurt you." He said. Irene refused to look at him.

"I guess a part-a big part- of me knew what I was doing was wrong, despicable, even-and that it would hurt you. But it felt like when I was with Maria I was a different person than I was when I was with you. I know it sounds crazy, but it felt like the two actions were somehow separate from each other. "

Irene remained silent. James' admission had pierced her to the bone, but she somehow managed to stay sitting, perfectly composed, in her chair.

James looked at Irene briefly before continuing. "I…I didn't realise just how serious we were, I guess. I mean, I knew we were in a relationship, and I suppose I was utterly foolish to not understand how much it meant to you, but somehow, I didn't give it that much thought. And then, when you came to me in the weeks preceding your birthday…it suddenly changed very quickly. I didn't realise how much it meant to you until that moment, and I felt like an utter idiot. I didn't want to force you into anything, but you were…insistent."

It was at this moment Irene had to fight the hardest not to scream. _Insistent_, that was the word James had used. Dear God, she had wanted to sleep with him because she loved him, and had wanted to show him how much she had loved him and the fact that she was prepared to commit. And he had ignored that, instead presenting it to her as if she was pestering him.

She felt horrified and disgusted. How was it possible to be on such utterly different wavelengths with a person you loved, a person you thought you knew and understood completely? All that time, James had already been…well, detached from her, from their relationship, already on a completely new level.  
>She had wanted an explanation from James, and she had been prepared for the pain it would cause her, but somehow some small idealistic, irrational part of her had still hoped there would be some sort of magical explanation that she would be able to comprehend. But all she heard made it worse than it had before. All her hopes were fading, she could almost see them disappear.<p>

James continued. It seemed he was almost relieved to get it out.

"I don't know why I said yes to you, that night. I should have ended it then….I mean," he said hurriedly, seeing the anger and horror on Irene's face, "I should have ended it way before, when I first started to develop an interest in Maria. But if any crucial point came, where my own conscience should have caught up with me, properly, it should have been then.

"After that…I don't know. I came up with all these lies and every day I told myself that if I told you then, it would hurt you even more than if I told you earlier. And so I held back, I made up excuses, lied…but I couldn't tell you. I'd realised, by then, how…invested you were, how much the relationship meant to you. I couldn't bear to see how upset you would be if I ended it."

Irene stayed quiet, though a new explosion was building up inside her. "What you mean to say," she finally said in a quiet, controlled voice, though James could hear the barely suppressed emotion and tension behind it, "was that you were a selfish, disgusting, cheating coward."

James opened his mouth and closed it again. He was trying to explain his behaviour to Irene, but even he had to admit, she did have a point. He didn't dare argue.

A tense silence followed.

"Where did you meet Maria?" Irene asked.

"She was the daughter of one of the people who works for my father. She doesn't move in our social circles, I knew my parents would never approve. I kept it hidden from them as well."

"Am I supposed to be calmed by that?" Irene snarled. "You didn't just lie to me, you decided to include your parents. Is that supposed to make me feel _better_?"

James blanched, realising his error. Before he had a chance to protest, Irene interrupted him.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" she said, her voice no longer angry, but small and defeated.

James didn't know what to say. "I don't know" he admitted, and Irene realised that this was probably the most honest he had been with her for almost a year. Her worst suspicion was conformed. He had been prepared to wait, wait until he either got so bored of her that he couldn't bear another minute with her, or even worse, he had waited for her to finish with him, so that he would have gotten away with it.

She shook her head, and a tear escaped, trailing down her cheek. At the sight of it, James made to get up, but reconsidered at Irene's expression.

"I thought what we had meant something" Irene said. "I genuinely thought I had found someone who cared, who saw me as a real person with feelings, someone who loved me, not because it was his obligation, but because he wanted to. And all you ever did was lie and bullshit your way through all of it."

At this James stood up angrily. "Not all of it!" he retorted. "I cared about you, I loved you at the beginning, but Irene- I was different back then."

Irene didn't bother to hide her snort. This was the sort of excuse she had heard repeated dozens of times in different films, it sounded even more melodramatic in real life.

"I did love you" James repeated. But damn it, Irene, I was still fourteen. I didn't understand what commitment meant, I didn't realise how fast we were moving. My behaviour was wrong, I know that-" he added hurriedly, realising how his words would be interpreted, "but the whole time, you had something completely different in mind with our relationship. I was considering it being short term, you weren't."

He shook his head. "I really never meant to hurt you. I know I was an idiot, a _complete_ idiot, Sherlock already made that clear to me, trust me. I just hoped that there would be a way to keep you from getting hurt."

Irene laughed a hollow laughed. "Don't pretend" she snapped. "You didn't care. If you truly loved me, if you had cared, you would have ended it, you would have explained, you would have made sure to clear up any misunderstandings regarding our relationship the second you realised that something had changed. And instead you decided to cheat on me, with the pretence of trying not to hurt me.

"How stupid, how thick do you have to be James?" she cried. "Don't you dare try to pretend that my feelings played a part. It was your selfishness and cowardice that determined your actions, not my feelings."

James said nothing.

"I…"Irene cleared her throat. '_you have to do this'_, she reminded herself, and it sickened her how much the thought pained her.

Deep breath, she told herself. Everything was broken already, practically damaged beyond repair. She couldn't hope to salvage the broken pieces of her heart, her life anymore and it was time to give up trying.

"I want you to go." She told him. "I can't stand the sight of you. You are a lying, cheating, cowardly, selfish person. I never want to see you again."

James stared back at her, the sudden anger in his eyes turning into acceptance.

"I promise you" he told her. "You won't have to worry about seeing me for much longer." He took a deep breath. "We're moving."

Irene stared back at him, quelling the instinctive questions welling up inside her.

"Father wants to start a new company, right in the centre of London. I'll be changing schools in three weeks. After that I promise, you will never have to see me or hear from me again."

Irene nodded stoically, fighting the upheaval of emotion in her mind. She wanted to scream, laugh, cry and shout at the same time, and it took all her self control to keep her face passive.

"Good" she said, and didn't know what else to say. She would miss him, that was true, but she didn't want to miss him. She had to move on.

James nodded. "I'm really sorry." He said again, and turned to leave.

Irene watched him pull on his coat. Right before he stepped out the door, something in his face changed, as if he was only now realising the consequences and the finality of his actions.

"Irene -" he said, and his voice suddenly sounded uncertain, almost choked up. Irene could see the expression that had graced his face so many times before, it was the same expression he wore when he had told her that nothing had changed between them, that he loved her and that he cared about her.

All of it had been one huge, horrid lie.

"Don't" she told him coldly. He stared at her briefly and then nodded, deciding she was right. There was nothing he could do anymore to salvage this situation except bow out somewhat gracefully.

"Goodbye then."

Irene said nothing as she watched him leave. The second the door slammed behind him, Irene couldn't take it anymore. She fell to the floor and broke down.

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**Yes, Yes, I know, and I promise that hopefully after this chapter the whole "falling on the floor and breaking down" stuff will stop. In the next few chapters, Irene needs to move on with her life and then….well….maybe a new romance can start blossoming **


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